Heylin Rebirth
by Freya Ishtar
Summary: (Re-posted by reader demand) In seeking to bolster the numbers of the Heylin, Chase finds himself scraping the bottom of the metaphysical barrel for a new apprentice. *Listed as Horror, as there is no genre listing for Dark. WARNING: Mature content (Includes Spoof Drabble "Mary Sue in the House of Heylin")
1. A Fateful Day

***Originally posted to 07/03/07-08/20/09. Deleted from site 01/13/11.**

***This chapter revised and re-posted 2/21/13.**

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**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Xiaolin Showdown_ or any of the affliated characters.

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**MARY SUE LITMUS TEST TAKEN FOR THIS STORY'S OC **(both at time of original post & again for repost [to be sure I didn't misremember]).

**RESULT: **17** (**17-21 Fanfiction characters can go either way at this point depending on the writer. For an MMO/RPG or original fiction character, however, you're most likely perfectly fine.- per The Universal Mary Sue Litmus Test www. Springhole. net) So, to the haters who like to assume that ALL OC's are Mary Sues, I say- in the words of Doctor Evil- put that in your pipe and smoke it ;p

**(I apologize if you feel I'm being a bitch, but when this story was originally posted, someone stuck it into a Mary Sue C2 without the benefit of actually reading it, and I did not appreciate all OC's being thought of as Sues simply because some writers can't separate creating a real, flesh-and-blood person from making a wish-fulfillment figure.) **

Yes, my pen name is Freya Ishtar . . . the OC's name is Freya Ishtar. This character was initially created as a self-insertion as part of a creative writing project.

**FLAMES/UNNECESSARILY MEAN or NASTY REVIEWS WILL BE REPORTED.** Reviews offering constructive criticism, or that state the story is not your cup of tea, however, are totally acceptable :)

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Chapter One

A Fateful Day

"Spicer, wake up!"

Jack opened his tired eyes to the sound of Chase Young's voice, only to see the man seated in his usual, ornate throne-like chair dining neatly, but . . . the image was upside down.

_What the . . . ?_ Looking down . . . um . . . _up _he saw that the front of his black pajama shirt was clutched in the jaws of a large, unfriendly looking feline, suspending him nearly a foot from the floor. Normally such a thing would frighten him, but it was not the first time he'd found himself in this sort of predicament.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Chase, it's a _Sunday!_ Can't evil sleep in for just one day?"

"Not when there are important matters to attend to." Chase appeared as though he would say more, but was unceremoniously interrupted by a loud snoring from the other end of the table.

This brought both sets of eyes to Wuya. The sorceress had dozed off, one elbow propped up on the arm of her chair, her triangular chin resting against her palm.

Chase sighed, shaking his head, and waved dismissively at the feline holding Jack.

The young man screamed as he was dropped to the ground with a resounding thud.

The combination of sudden noises jarred Wuya from sleep, her chin slipping from her hand. She glanced around quickly, startled but groggy.

"Good," Chase began, wiping the corner of his mouth with a silk napkin before rising smoothly from his chair. "Now that you are both here, _and_ awake, we have business to attend."

"Business that couldn't wait until noon?" Wuya asked with a tired roll of her acid-green eyes.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, yawning as he pulled himself up to sit cross-legged on the floor. "If she's not sensin' a Wu, what's the point?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Chase frowned deeply at them- and secretly relished the responding fear he saw in both of their faces. "For starters, it is now a quarter _past_ noon. And for once we are after a tool more important than a _Wu_."

When they both fell into surprised silence, Chase nodded, continuing, "The next Heylin Witch is about to awaken."

Wuya's eyes went white all around and she looked almost angry. "Oh, no . . . ."

Jack shook his head. "Wait, what?"

"Every few centuries, someone is born with the capacity to learn Heylin magicks. This is the result of a spell cast millennia ago to ensure the survival of the Heylin- a mystical lineage, if you will. Of course, the time-line has been thrown off by this _genius_ getting herself locked in a puzzle-box for fifteen hundred years."

Wuya rolled her eyes again, giving a bored shrug. "Could have happened to anybody."

"Do you have any idea how many of our number we may have lost over these centuries- three, perhaps four? How many brought about their own demise because they were in possession of powers they could not control because of your _little_ slip?"

The feline returned, spitting a pile of Jack's clothes into his lap. "Oh, eww . . . tiger-slobber!"

Chase snapped his fingers and a dividing screen popped up in front of the young man. "_Please_ get dressed."

"So, if Wuya couldn't do it, then why didn't you go and find them?"

"Because that is not _my_ job, but after studying the matter I have come to a realization."

"Please do enlighten us." Wuya inquired in a sour tone.

"That if we find her before she is fully awakened and bind her loyalty to us . . . she can wield _any_ power that _either _of us can teach her."

Wuya grinned. "That would be useful."

"Sounds like trouble to me." Jack chimed in, coming out from behind the screen. "Let me get this straight, more powerful than you _and_ pre-puzzle-box Wuya?"

Chase scoffed at this notion—if that level of power was possible, he would kill the witch as soon as he found her and save himself the trouble. "No, Spicer, you misunderstand, as usual. However, give or take a few centuries of proper training and she'll make a decent ally."

"What if this backfires and she turns against you?"

"Perhaps you missed the part where I had said we would bind her to us? Though, of course, by us, you must realize I mean _me._ What more _useful_ tool than a servant who does not _know_ they are a servant?"

"_Oh_ . . . . So what now? How do we find her?"

"That is the simple part. Now that she is awakening, the first power granted is the ability to sense Shen Gong Wu. Therefore, we must all be on guard as she may stumble her way into a Showdown, and we must gain her confidence before the Xiaolin."

Jack was confused yet again-why should gaining her confidence matter if being Heylin was her destiny? "I thought you said she was born to be evil."

Muttering angrily under his breath, Chase gave a slow, controlled shake of his head. "Evil is not born, it is _made_. How many times must I say it? One must make the decision to become evil of their own free will, but if the Xiaolin win her to their side . . . ." He fixed Wuya with a hard stare. "She _could_ some day make their _Grand Master _Dashi look like a kindergartener."

"She could?" Jack echoed, mildly alarmed, though he doubted he'd still be alive whenever_ some day_ rolled around.

Chase shrugged, unconcerned. "The potential would be there, but I sincerely doubt such a thing would occur."

Wuya suddenly sat bolt-upright in her chair. "How _fortunate._ It would seem I'm sensing a Wu right now."

O-O-O

"_Freya!"_

Grumbling unintelligibly, Freya's body sagged against the bathroom sink at Daphne Ishtar's shrill scream from the downstairs hall. Plucking the toothbrush out of her mouth, the young woman spat out the minty foam before poking her head out of the door.

"Damn, ma! I'm up, I'm already dressed. Stop hollering!"

At this, she heard her mother's footsteps ascend the staircase. "What? _You_, up and dressed before twelve-thirty on a Sunday? What's the occasion?"

Freya slid the toothbrush back into its holder and shook her head. Hazel eyes a slow, dramatic blink as her gaze locked with the reflection of her mother's in the bathroom mirror.

The older woman rested her hip against the doorjamb, watching her daughter with an all too familiar note of concern.

"Nothin', I just . . . couldn't _really _sleep last night."

Daphne frowned. "Those dreams again, huh?"

"Yeah." Freya replied with a tired sigh, leaning closer to the mirror and pulling on her golden-cinnamon hair to inspect the growing hint of ash blonde at her scalp. "Need to do my roots."

"Did you put an amethyst under your pillow?"

"Yes- didn't help matters."

"Hmm. Usin' the dreamcatcher your cousin made you?"

Brow furrowing, Freya made a little disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "No, and I'm not planning to. It's made outta red yarn and has a chicken bone strung in the middle."

"She's only eight, give her a little credit. It was made with the proper intention, it would work just as well as any other."

"Not for me it wouldn't."

"Still can't make any sense out of 'em?"

"No." Shrugging, Freya scooped her hair up into a high ponytail as she continued. "Most of 'em I can't remember clearly enough to even try and the others are so realistic it's hard to wrap my head around 'em."

Daphne crossed her arms under her breasts. "Maybe you should reconsider regression-therapy."

She'd always been picked on during her school years for having _careless hippie-witch parents_, but she bet the _normal_ kids didn't get badgered like this. Hell, she doubted they had even remotely similar conversations to what she had to endure with her mother.

"C'mon mom. I've told you how I feel about that- they are _my_ past lives and I'll remember _if_ and when I am supposed to."

Her mother nodded, mouth folded inward in a thoughtful line. "You gonna go to the store any time soon? Pick up some hair dye?"

Freya quirked an eyebrow. "Was thinking about it." Only now did she notice the folded green bills in Daphne's hand. "_Mother . . . ?_"

"I need you to stop by Mr. Hong's for me."

Mr. Hong's was the only _true_ apothecary shop in their section of Queens."I _knew _I should have moved out as soon as I turned eighteen."

"And yet, here you still are- three years later and living rent free. I'll pay for your hair dye!"

Rolling her eyes, Freya caved easily to the bribe. "Fine. Whaddya need?"

Handing over the cash, Daphne clapped excitedly, making Freya question- for what was probably the tenth time in half as many days- who was _really_ the daughter in their family-dynamic. "Cinnamon, lavender and four green candles."

Freya nodded, pocketing the money before running the short list over in her head as she tugged a brush through her voluminous- if pin-straight- hip-length ponytail. _Concentration, relaxation and . . . oh _no "_Please_ tell me you're not trying a money-spell!"

"No." Her mother replied with an understanding smile. "I am however asking for a raise tomorrow, so I'm going to do a special meditation before bed tonight."

"Alright then, I'm off." She planted a quick kiss on Daphne's cheek before shouldering past her.

"Wait, have something t' eat first."

"Not really hungry." Freya responded as she reached the foot of the stairs.

"D'you take your iron pills?"

"No, but I feel fine!" With that, she was out the door, closing it loudly behind her.

She grumbled under her breath as she set off down the block, ignoring the slight drawl that colored her words. "Never mind that I bought her some _fresh_ lavender root months ago for planting so she _wouldn't _find herself in a last-minute pinch. Is it too much to ask for the woman to do some upkeep on her _own_ damned herb garden?"

The agitation dribbled away as she wound her way down the street towards the small, suburban town's commercial area. The feeling was replaced by a heavy, unsettling sense of foreboding. This area was always quiet, but Sunday afternoons usually found the place almost bustling- cars going to and from church, people stocking up on groceries for the upcoming week, children playing or flying kites in the lightly forested local park beneath the bridge that led to The Bronx. But the quickly graying sky was enough of a threat to keep everyone locked indoors today.

Well, _almost_ everyone. She wondered if the streets being so unusually deserted wasn't the reason for the sudden sense of unease stealing over her.

Normally, Freya loved the minute chill of creepiness she felt at things like wandering these same deserted streets alone at night, sneaking into one of the many abandoned turn-of-the-century houses that dotted the shore-line, or opening one of the small, leather-bound grimoires with the thin, spidery hand-writing her great-grandmother had left to her. But _this_ was different. Unfamiliar . . . like . . . like she was being _called_ somehow.

As she passed the gates of the park, the sensation grew stronger- suddenly an almost physical thing that stopped her in her tracks, forcing her to backpedal a few steps, leading her right back to the entrance.

Whatever was trying to reach out to her must be _here._

She felt like she _had_ to be here . . . and like she was trespassing at the same time. Past the grassy, sparsely wooded field, she picked her way through the playground to a hole in the tightly-looped chain-link fence that reappeared no matter how many times it had been fixed.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been here. A few years ago she started to have recurring dreams of this place and hadn't set foot beyond the gates since. Strange dreams of a cemetery on the park grounds; of searching for one particular gravestone that held something secret, and special. In the dream, she always _knew_ what she was looking for, though she could never recall that detail when she woke.

Passing through the ripped metal into the thicker bit of forest here felt eerily like those imaginings. Well, if she ignored the blatant signs of secret, underage partying.

_I _swear_, if I trip over a gravestone, I'm_ never _setting foot outta my house again!_

She wasn't frightened- known for running _towards _the chilling sounds in the abandoned, reputedly haunted house while everyone else was running away- but she _was_ perfectly aware that her curiosity often overrode any sort of common sense. The deeper the woods became, and the further she got from the empty beer cans and stubbed out cigarettes littering the forest floor, the more uneasy she felt, but whatever pulled her to this place was now too strong to turn away from.

To her surprise the trees stopped abruptly, opening onto a small clearing. _What the . . . ? How long has _this _been here?_ Closing her eyes, she allowed the overpowering pull to guide her steps- despite her upbringing as an open-minded pagan with a healthy respect for the supernatural, she'd _never_ experienced anything like this before. Not in her waking hours, anyway.

The forward motion of the pull immediately changed direction, shifting until she felt it beneath her, all but forcing Freya to her knees. Opening her eyes, she saw a patch of dry, soft earth. _It's . . . it's _here?

"Oh, you _gotta_ be kidding me." She muttered in disbelief, glancing around quickly as she wiped sweaty palms on her black velvet jeans. "Alright, let's get this over with."

Giving herself a little shake, she began scooping out handfuls of dried soil as she tried to wrap her head around what the _hell_ she was doing. _In the middle of the deserted park . . . with the sky about to open up and pour buckets any second . . . _still _haven't gone to Mr. Hong's, still haven't bought my hair dye . . . and yet, here I am . . . digging with my _bare _hands for gods only know what in a place that I could_ swear _sprang up outta no where. _The hole got deeper, and she began to lose heart.

_Freya, you are a _fucking _genius! There's nothing here and yet you're still digg- _her fingertips brushed against cold metal- _ing?_

Shaking her head in disbelief, she shifted to sit cross-legged and leaned forward, reaching both hands into the hole. Slipping her fingers around a slim, golden bar, she pulled it free- only to blink in shock at the object in her hands. _A scepter?_ She wasn't certain what she held in her hand- a short slender staff topped with a cloudy rose-quartz orb that was encircled by several intertwining silver rings- but _that_ seemed the only suitable word to describe it.

_It . . . looks like something out of a fairytale . . . or an anime. "_Yeah, who am I, Sailor Moon? What the hell is this thing?"

"That would be the Aiko Scepter. A _mystical_ item."

Her head snapped towards the voice to see- "_Ahhhhhh!_" Scrambling off to one side of the hole, she crossed her arms protectively over the object, guarding it.

Nothing- not even the unparalleled strangeness of the last few moments- could have prepared her for the sight of a . . . _dragon?_ A small one, but still, unquestionably a creature that resembled every depiction of a serpentine dragon she'd ever seen. And yet, the little beast was surrounded by a motley group of average, everyday looking people- all probably her age. A tall, burly looking cowboy, a cute, fashion-ista Asian girl . . . with _blue _eyes? A lanky Latino surfer-boy, and . . . a short, bald . . . _monk?_

"Oh, ye _gods!" _Hazel eyes went wide all around and Freya could feel herself on the verge of tears as her gaze dropped, raking over the ground in front of her. "It's finally happened! I've completely fucking snapped!"

"No, you haven't." The girl began gently, Freya continued to skitter herself backwards despite their cautious approach. "That thing you're holding is called a Shen Gong Wu, and we came here looking for it."

"It would be of no use to you, so if you would please give it to us, we will be on our way." The monk said in a cheerful tone.

When she only continued to back away, her gaze darting helplessly between them all and had yet to even get to her feet, the surfer-boy shook his head. "I don't think the goth-chick gets it."

There was something almost insulting in his tone and- despite feeling like she was having a psychotic episode- that was all Freya needed to hear to bring back some semblance of her senses. "Hey! I don't know who you are or what you want with this thing, Moon-Doggie," her grandmother would be so proud that she'd managed to work in a_ Gidget_ reference under the circumstances, but the guy simply looked confused, "but _I_ found it fair and square so it _belongs_ to me."

The dragon folded his little arms, shrugging as he regarded the surfer-boy. "I'd say she _gets it_ just fine. Speakin' of . . . how'd you find it?"

"I-I . . . _felt _it, okay?" She demanded in a fearful tone.

At those words the strangers all froze for a moment, looking towards each other with questioning eyes. All attention landed on the dragon, who could only shake his head. "Ya got me."

"Please miss," the cowboy tried, taking a step forward and frowning at the way it sent her inching back again, "if you hang on to that thing, you could be in real danger."

Suddenly, still a few yards from her, the group halted and the surfer-boy cracked his knuckles, his gaze fixed high over Freya's head. "We've got company."

Freya finally stopped her skittering-retreat just in time to feel something against her back.

_Oh _gods, _what now?_ Turning her head slowly to look over her shoulder, she saw a pair of golden greaves behind her. Timidly lifting her gaze, she followed black pants up to a strange, feudal-style breastplate and at last came to rest on the underside of a man's jaw. He tipped his head forward to look down at her, a lock of shiny black hair falling into his handsome face and she was struck by a jarring sense of familiarity.

Everything around her seemed for fall away for a split-second as she searched his face, feeling as though she knew him, but positive that she _didn't._ "I've . . . I've seen you before," she whispered.

His expression didn't change, save for one eyebrow arching as curiosity tilted his head to one side. "Have you?"

The moment was shattered by someone landing in front of her, and Freya's head snapped in the direction of the sound. Her gaze lifted again to the shoulders of a black trench-coat, a head of spiky, fire-engine-red hair above them. A pair of . . . _propellers?_ . . . extended from a small, evil looking smiley face backpack that folded in on themselves and disappeared into the bag.

_I don't think this day can get any weirder._

"Back it up, Xiaolin losers." The goth-guy said, holding out a hand as though the gesture would ward them off. "She's with us."

For the first time since she'd set foot past the park gates, she found something truly familiar, and therefore, almost comforting, although . . . _nah, couldn't be._

"Wait a _minute_," she said slowly. "I know that voice."

"Huh?" At this, he turned his head, looking down at her over his shoulder. "Oh my _God_ . . . _Freya_?"

"Um . . . ." She gave a nervous laugh, _how in the _world _did I get here?_ "Uh, hi Jack."


	2. Unbalanced Reality

**Thank you to the readers that made it past my very bitchy opening disclaimers on the first chapter! *heart***

Chapter 2

Unbalanced Reality

"You have the misfortune of _knowing _this insect?" The man behind Freya asked in a low tone and she couldn't be certain who the insult was meant for until he added, "You poor girl."

"Uh . . . ."

"Freya and I were best friends in junior high," Jack announced proudly.

"Yeah . . . ." She scowled, her predicament momentarily forgotten. "'Til you up and moved to China without so much as a goodbye via email!"

"Ya know, not really the time, Frey."

A gravely female voice chimed in at this. "You associated with Jack by _choice_? Chase is right, you poor girl."

"Hey now . . . ."

Freya looked towards the voice to see a statuesque redhead in a black, witchy-looking, old-orient style dress. Her elaborately overdone eyeliner and ring of lighter, orange-red hair that circled her head like a crown of flames seemed somewhat familiar to Freya as well—but this was for an _entirely_ different reason.

"Haven't I seen you around the Vill or something?"

The woman's brow furrowed, but before she could respond, the surfer-boy's voice cut in, drawing all four gazes back to the group Jack had called _Xiaolin_. "Hey, _bad guys_, can you do the stroll down memory lane later?"

His words caught Freya's attention and she found herself turning her head, hazel eyes lifting to regard the man behind her—Chase, was it? "Bad guys?"

He shrugged lazily, smirking. "That would be a matter of perspective."

The Asian girl laughed, assuming a fighting stance. "For the record, Jack, it doesn't seem like she _is_ with you."

"Hey!" Freya piped up, unable to stop herself- whatever she'd found herself smack-dab in the middle of, she didn't want to be included in _at all_. "I'm not with _anybody_! I've got nothing to do with whatever's going on between you people."

Chase lowered himself to one knee behind her, leaning his face over her shoulder, his gaze on the Xiaolin as he spoke in a low murmur. "Don't you see? That is precisely what is happening here. _They_ are going to force you to choose sides, and all because of that little _trinket_ you hold in your hands."

_Ye gods, Freya! What have you gotten yourself into?_

Despite the gravity of the _very_ bizarre situation unfolding around her, she put effort into ignoring the way having his face so close to hers set off the feel of butterflies in her stomach. More effort than she thought should be necessary.

"Th—they told me this isn't of any use to me."

Gold eyes flicked over to capture hers for a split-second. "Which one of them told you that?"

"The little bald one."

"Ah, yes, Omi. He was a history of . . . lying, telling partial-truths and switching _sides_ whenever it suits _their_ version of good. Anyone can use a Shen Gong Wu; they only need to know how. You see . . . Freya, was it?"

She nodded stiffly, but couldn't bring herself to voice a reply.

"That is why they are so concerned with one who has yet to make their allegiances clear possessing such an object."

"But . . . choose sides? I _can't_! I have no idea what's going on!" She turned her face towards his as she tightened her hold on the scepter. "And I don't wanna give this to them, either."

He rose gracefully to stand and stepped neatly around her. "And you won't have to."

With a snap of his gloved fingers, two large jungle cats appeared on either side of her and Freya struggled to repress a terrified squeal.

"Protect the girl."

"Jack," Freya squeaked, watching the beasts with wide eyes as they strolled around to sit on their hunches before her, "when this is over, you've got a _lot_ of explaining to do."

"One headache at a time," Jack said, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder at her. "Jack-bots, attack!"

_Jack_-whats? She couldn't believe what she saw as several gold and black armored . . . _things _descended from the sky over the Xiaolin and opened fire.

A huge, cartoon-like melee broke out in front of her, and the cats continued to sit with their backs to her. The beasts bared their fangs, growls rumbling up from their throats at the slightest motion in her direction.

_This is _insane _. . . and not even that cool kind of insane like in the movies. I gotta get outta here. _Turning very slowly, she scanned the area behind her before inching steadily further and further away from the felines.

Looking back, Freya saw the two groups still embroiled in combat, the _Jack-bots_ reduced to glittering bits of wreckage all around. She got shakily to her feet and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, trembling breath. Opening them, she gave one final glance to the insanity before her.

_Okay, Freya, move! _When she was still unable to will her body into motion, she clenched her teeth, _seriously, woman! Move your ass- go, go NOW!_

At last she bolted for the tree-line.

O-O-O

Rai landed hard on his back near the felines. Grunting as the wind got knocked out of him, he flipped up onto his feet. His proximity allowed the first notice that the beasts were alone.

"Hey! Where'd she go?" When his intentionally, overly-loud observation went unheard, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I'd say we've _all_ got a problem here! We seem to be one Wu-holding outsider short!"

At this announcement, all motion ceased, everyone's attention turning to him. Chase gave an angered groan, pinning Jack with a wrathful glare as the Xiaolin regrouped.

The battle lost its purpose, and Chase turned away, striding back to his cats. Jack dragged his feet to follow—uncertain why he got blamed—as Dojo grew into his flying form.

"Let's head back to the temple," Rai said, leaping onto Dojo's back. "A human that can sense Wu? We gotta figure this out. Maybe Master Fung can tell us something."

His comrades following suit, Clay cast narrowed blue eyes on the Heylin as Dojo took flight. "Yeah, if we don't find that girl soon, she could be in a world o' trouble."

Chase followed the impressions of the rugged soles of the girl's combat boots as they led off, into the tree-line, winding back through the woods and into the park.

"Where would she go, Jack?" Chase inquired tonelessly when the grass swallowed up the rest of the trail.

"Huh? How should I—"

"You knew her well once, and until she is fully awakened, she is _still_ human. Human habits do not change that easily. She is alone, she is confused and she is probably afraid."

He turned cold eyes on Jack, disinterested as he was in the insect's excuses at the moment- the girl's words bothered him. _I've seen you_, she said. How could that _possibly_ be?

"So I ask again, where would she _go?"_

Taking a few steps back to place Wuya between himself and Chase, Jack shrugged. "How should I know? Freya was never one much for _sharing_. Whenever she got upset about anything, she'd usually just punch me in the shoulder and storm off."

Wuya chuckled. "I like her already."

Instantly a light bulb went on over Jack's spiky redhead. "But . . . I remember where her parents live . . . and if she hates responsibility as much as she used to, she probably _still_ lives there."

O-O-O

Slamming the living room door behind her, Freya leaned her back against it for a long moment. She clutched the bag from Mr. Hong's against her chest, the scepter thrust securely through a belt loop in her jeans. The idea seemed stupid in hindsight, but she thought that maybe, just _maybe _if she'd gone about the normal things she was supposed to do , then order would be restored to her world.

Unfortunately, this hadn't been much help after having to explain Mr. Hong the dirt-smears on her hands, face and pants. Oh, and the scepter had been a _delightful _conversation piece as well.

A very _Freya-like _visit to the local antique shop, and a tail-over-tea-kettle tumble down the town's one, hilly dirt road had seemed to satisfy the elderly man's curiosity. Every little white lie out of her mouth only enforced upon her the reality of what _actually_ happened. After leaving the apothecary, she took off for her house at a run.

Finally catching her breath, she pushed away from the door to trudge through the house. "Mom?"

No answer came and Freya grumbled, dropping the bag unto the coffee table. She curled her hands into fists as she bounced angrily on the balls of her feet. "What the _hell_ was the point of sending me to the store if you were gonna go out any friggin' way?"

Her anger swelled inside of her for a moment, and before she could force it back down the framed picture of herself and her parents on the mantle fell from its perch. The portrait landed on the throw pillows she'd artfully—if purposefully—arranged in front of the unused fireplace a few months earlier. Letting out a sigh, she strolled over to lift the frame back into place.

"Not again! Dammit, why is this happening to me?" Her fingertips trailed over her father's image beneath the glass before she turned and started for the staircase.

She muttered under her breath as she climbed the steps. The first time _it_ happened, she'd written the eerie incident off as coincidence. However, after third or forth time of something breaking or being thrown by unseen hands in the face of overwhelming emotions, she decided it best to simply hide her feelings away.

How could she manage that after what she'd witnessed today? Anger wasn't the problem—Freya got mad on such a regular basis it bordered on unhealthy—simply that the fear and confusion still lurking in her coupled with the lashing out of anger, making her emotions difficult to control for that moment.

_I can't lose it like _that _ever again . . . not after what happened to dad._ _Why aren't things like this ever as cool as they are in the movies?_

Rubbing her eyes, she stepped into the bathroom to start the shower and then continued down the hall to the attic stairs. _My house . . . I'm in _my _house—going to _my _room with_ my _bed and_ my _things. And this _trinket _is just gonna go in the other room with all my other antique crap._

At the top of the steps, she grasped the doorknob and drew in a cleansing breath. _I'm never going to see _any _of those people again and my life will just get back to normal._

She opened the door only to see Jack, the witch and that Chase guy in her room. Instantly, she pulled it closed again.

Dropping her gaze to her feet for a long moment, she shook her head. _Okay, now I really am losing it. There is no _way _those people are in my room. _My _room—okay, they're not there. I'm going to open this door again and the room will be empty._

Swallowing hard, she slowly pushed open the door and peeked around.


	3. A Heylin Lesson in Everyday Problems

Chapter Three

A Heylin Lesson in Everyday Problems

Jack sat at the computer desk, the witch sprawled on the bed filing her nails, and Chase stood with his arms folded by the window.

_Oh, this just keeps getting better and better._

All three lifted their gazes to regard Freya as she at last stepped into the room. Turning her back to them, she reluctantly closed the door, her head hanging for a moment. Finally facing them, she forced her attention to land on the one person in the room she knew how to handle.

_Jack . . . ._

She stomped over to him—only more aggravated at the sight of his trademark goofy, _please-don't-hurt-me_ grin—and wrapped both of her small fists into the lapels of his trench coat. Pulling on him until her face was right in his, Freya simply scowled at him before wrenching him back and forth. Sure, standing he was a full head taller than her, didn't mean she couldn't shake the crap out of him.

"What the _hell_ is going on here? What the _fuck_ is a Shen Gong Wu? Who are these two? And what are you all doing in _my room_?"

"Freya, I can explain—"

"_My room_, Jack! In my house, with my things! And do not tell me you touched my computer! How did you even get in here?"

Jack gave a nervous giggle. "Came in through your window."

"_What?_" Suddenly a book propelled itself across the room, barely missing Jack's head.

Freya released him instantly, her eyes squeezing shut as she pressed the heels of her palms against her temples.

Chase and the witch shared an amused, albeit surprised, glance at the unexpected display of her fledgling abilities. Drawing in a deep breath, Freya exhaled slowly as she backpedaled a step or two away from Jack. Nodding to herself, she opened her eyes, her hands dropping to her sides, and turned towards her dresser.

"Okay," she began slowly as she pulled open a drawer to fish out clean clothing and tossed the items on the bed. "Jack, you and I haven't seen eachother in a _very_ long time. Things have been really weird lately-—granted not as weird as what I saw today, but definitely far from normal, even for me."

"Yeah, I got that. When did _you_ develop telekinesis?"

"It's not like that, I . . . ." Sighing, she turned to face them—and the image that greeted her caused the rest of her response to die on her lips.

The witch dropped the nail file and rummaged through the clothing Freya thoughtlessly tossed on the bed near her. The girl wouldn't have minded . . . except that the woman had pulled Freya's bra from the pile and held it up in both hands, examining the item as though she'd never seen one before. Freya's cheeks burned, and turned a deeper shade of crimson _still_ as she noticed the two sets of male eyes in the room observing the witch's inspection.

Making every effort to control her anger this time, Freya strolled over until she was right in front of the woman and reached a hand out, snatching the bra away. "Give me _that!"_

"Yeah, Wuya, looks like it'd be too big on you anyways. Guess you've developed a _few _new things since eighth grade, huh?"

"Oh, shut _up_ Jack!"

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." The witch then went on to inspect the crimson, corset-style top with appraising eyes. "I do love your taste in attire."

"Spicer's stupidity aside, when did this ability first present itself?" Chase asked quietly; something in his voice forced Freya's to meet his gaze.

Looking at him stripped the girl of her anger, leaving her only her fear and confusion to hide behind. A strange sense of calm overtook her. "Maybe about a year ago?"

"Such a short time."

"A year is _not_ a short time."

"That would depend upon whom you ask."

His eyes held something she couldn't quite fathom, and suddenly she felt as though he pulled at her thoughts. Freya had a vague recollection of her great-grandmother once doing this when she was only a child and fibbed about breaking an antique hand-mirror.

He began to sift through her memories.

She tried to fight this invasion, but the attempt to block him out when he'd already slipped past her defenses only caused a sharp pain behind her eyes. Instantly she dropped her gaze to the floor, shielding her face with one hand.

"Stop that!" She snatched up her clothes and started for the door, speaking over her shoulder. "Okay. Now I am going to go get cleaned up. As much fun as I had on our little play-date earlier, I don't enjoy looking a mess."

She turned back toward them for a moment. "Jack, Wuya . . . Chase, don't go wandering around my house. When I come back you will explain all of whatever is going on to me. Oh, and here."

Until that moment, she forgot all about the scepter. Slipping the Wu from her belt loop, she looked first at Jack and next at Wuya. _No . . . no._ She couldn't be certain why, but something told her that out of the three, Chase was the most likely to give the item back to her without a fight. Crossing the room, she held it out to him.

Lifting one eyebrow, he accepted the trinket, as he called the scepter, wordlessly.

She spun on her heel—uncaring that the length of her ponytail slapped him—at last exiting the room.

Chase looked at the object in his hand. "Did that seem _unusual_ to anyone else?"

"Eh, Freya's an _unusual _girl."

"Aren't we all?" Wuya asked with a dark chuckle.

Ignoring her, Jack turned his attention to the computer, tapping the mouse and smiling as the screen lit up. "She always used to 'get _vibes_' from people."

"What are you blathering about?"

"It's simple Chase," Wuya said, her tone utterly un-Wuya-like in its helpfulness, "you are the only one in the room not particularly concerned with Wu. If she is _sensitive_ at all, she most likely understood that Jack and I are simply a poor choice in that respect."

"Ah."

Jack glanced over his shoulder to see her rifling through Freya's dresser drawers. "Maybe you shouldn't do that. She almost pummeled me with a book, remember?"

The sorceress smiled wickedly. "Well, yes, but that was you, not me. I will be done before she gets back. Besides, I'm looking for something."

"Like what?"

"A journal, or a diary. Something private that will help us to understand the way she thinks."

Chase nodded in agreement. "Wuya, every once in a while you do remind me why I have yet to destroy you."

"I-I don't know . . . she's kinda iffy about privacy issues."

"If we understand how she thinks, we discover her weaknesses and then we can exploit them to our advantage. So simple minded, Spicer. How did you ever get so far as one of the Heylin?"

"Riding on your evil coattails."

"Ah, yes, I nearly forgot," the Heylin prince muttered with a world-weary sigh.

"Besides, if she had anything like that it wouldn't be in a book, it would be on here."

"Really?" Chase and Wuya asked in unison.

"Yeah, just let me check my email, first."

"Spicer . . . ."

"Okay, fine. I'll look."

Jack's eyes darted briefly to a few post-its stuck to the computer tower as he ran through various file folders. "No, I don't see anything . . . no diary, journal, blog . . . nothi- Wait. This one's labeled 'Freya's Writing Projects'; could be something."

Opening the folder, he saw many files, some with asterisks beside their titles. Chase and Wuya had come to stand behind him, reading over his shoulders.

"What _is_ all of that?"

Jack chuckled. "Looks like she's into writing fan fiction; she always did wanna become an author- just never pegged her for doin' somethin' so girly."

"What?"

"I'd explain it, but you'd just yell at me for 'blathering' again. I never read that stuff myself . . . she sure seems to like _Naruto_ and_ Inuyasha_." He reached over, snatching one particular post-it. "Asterisk denotes chapter containing lemon-or-lime. Hmm, I wonder what that means."

Wuya tapped a slender, clawed finger against her chin for a moment. "Well, read one that _doesn't_ have an asterisk next to its name and then read one that _does_ and whatever the latter chapter contains that the first lacks would tell us what it is."

Shrugging, Jack did as instructed, opening a random file. Three sets of eyes scanned the words on the screen. A simple enough entry, mostly conversation, the work revolved more around the characters emotions and reactions rather than action or setting. Jack closed the file after the first two pages.

"Hey, she's not bad."

"Moving _on,"_ Chase murmured in a bored tone.

"Okay . . . chapter with an asterisk." Upon opening the next file, the first few paragraphs were innocent enough . . . but soon precisely what _lemon-or-lime_ meant became quite clear.

They all read _this_ particular entry in its entirety. The described scene caused Jack's jaw to drop so low his chin nearly hit the desktop, made Chase's eyebrows lift-though nothing else in his expression changed-and left Wuya giving a naughty-sounding chuckle.

Closing the file, Jack scrolled down the considerable length of the folder. "Oh, man. Like three quarters of 'em have an asterisk next to the title. She really has _matured_ since junior high."

Wuya couldn't help smiling evilly. "My, that's _some_ weakness your little friend has."

Chase wandered away and began to rummage through a voluminous mess of papers on a chair, seeming to serve no other purpose than _makeshift sketch-shelf_. Wuya leaned over Jack's shoulder, clearly enjoying the way her future apprentice's mind worked. Resting her hand atop Jack's on the mouse, she moved the cursor over another asterisked chapter.

"Let's read another one."

"Did she draw all of these?" Chase asked in a disinterested tone.

"Huh? Prob'ly. She was always doodling or something-"

"Yes! I drew all of them!"

Suddenly, three gazes moved to see Freya in the doorway. Her long hair hanging heavily around her in towel-dried clumps, the crimson top Wuya had admired paired with metallic-sheen, second-skin pants and unlaced combat boots . . . the girl did _not_ look happy.

Storming over to Chase, she snatched the papers from him. "Drawing and writing are about the only things I've ever been any good at," she explained through clenched teeth as she stuffed them almost carelessly into her bookshelf before moving to the computer.

Jack couldn't close the files fast enough. Her gaze briefly scanned the text on the screen before she blushed, a tiny, embarrassed squeak emanating from her as she clamped both hands over her mouth.

"Oh My _GODS!_ Do you people have _no_ respect for boundaries?"

At the sight of Freya's small hand clenching into a fist, Jack threw up his arms in surrender. "It was _their _idea, please don't hurt me!"

"So you just had to go along with it? I guess with you the whole 'if they jumped off a bridge' question answers itself. Have you no back bone?"

"But Freya . . . they're scarier than you."

"We did not mean to offend you." Chase said in an icy-tone. "We were merely attempting to better understand you."

"Beg pardon?" Crossing her arms under her breasts, Freya cocked her head to one side. "You wanna get to know a girl, you ask her out for a cup of coffee or something- you don't go rifling your way through her_ private_ things."

Wuya and Chase shared a bewildered glance at her statement.

The witch ventured a guess. "Is this . . . cup of coffee some sort of courtship ritual?"

Jack couldn't help laughing. "Yeah, you could call it that."

Freya scowled darkly. "Somebody had better tell me what the hell is going on, and I mean now."

With an exasperated sigh, Chase began an abbreviated, mostly truthful- if _somewhat_ skewed- history of the Heylin and Xiaolin. He reasoned that her coming awakening was the cause of all the strange things happening to her. He told her that only be under Wuya's and his-but mostly _his-_instruction that she could learn to control her abilities, lest she end up doing something foolish; bringing about her own untimely end, or accidentally demolishing a city block . . . the potential outcome was anyone's guess, really.

The knowledge of Wuya's and his true ages came last. Out of everything, _that_ was the most difficult bit of information for her to swallow. He knew that immortality was always a hard thing for humans to grasp.

Freya took the news far better than Jack had thought she would- or at least the fact that his upper arm was still free of any impression of her fist made it seem that way. After Chase had finished his very eloquent explanation, she could feel the weight of their gazes on her and she slowly lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the carpeted floor.

Licking her suddenly parched lips, her eyes raked the floor before her. "But . . . I don't want to be evil."

"And just what _is _your impression of evil?"

Hazel eyes lifted to meet his as she scoffed. "Are you kidding? I stopped reading the paper or watching the news when I was still a child because for some reason the world can't go a day without one person doing something horrible to another."

"Such as . . . ?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "You want examples?"

"If you please."

"Okay . . . a while back I read on the internet that two teenage boys were being sentenced to serve jail time for microwaving a puppy-_microwaving_ a _puppy_! Do you have any idea how many children-and I mean toddlers-lose their lives because every year because they're born to people that never should have had kids in the first damned place? Someone should kill those parents and save those poor kids the suffering and pain!

"What about the mothers who put their newborns into dumpsters? What does that say about how much they value the life of their own baby-their own flesh and blood?"Her final point left her visibly shaken, tears welling up in her eyes.

Chase simply arched a brow, unfazed by anything she said. "Why does that affect you more greatly than the other 'examples'?"

Her gaze dropped from his again, one tear falling to the carpet. "Not like it's anyone's business . . . . I won't go into detail, but I can't have children. Unpleasant surprise I tripped over after tests due to some . . . physical issues I was having." If one could classify startlingly short and infrequent periods, coupled with near-debilitatingly painful menstrual cramps, as _some physical issues_.

"I mean, it's not like it's something I think about everyday- or like I ever had these big plans to meet Mr. Right and start a family and what-not, but . . . just knowing that there are people out their literally throwing away their own children when others would give _everything_ they have to be blessed with a child tears my heart out."

"And what happens to these terrible people?"

"Nothing- usually they just get sent to jail. Hell, some of them even get off scot-free, 'cause they hide what they've done and noboby finds out."

"That which you speak of is not true evil at all; merely the petty and perverted twisting of human minds. No, evil in its purest form is selfishness. Wanting to rule the world for the simple knowledge that it- and everyone and everything it contains- are yours to do with as you please, no more and no less." He paused for affect e. "_That_ is true evil."

Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she continued to stare at the floor as she weighed his words. "I'm not sure I understand."

In a move that surprised both Jack and Wuya, Chase lowered himself to kneel before Freya. Ignoring his underlings-he needed the girl to believe he was pleading with her own sense of logical reasoning-he maneuvered his head until his gaze caught hers. "If it were within your power to pass judgment over those who commit the crimes of which you speak, what would you do?"

"I would kill them."

"So quick to answer. Are you so certain?"

"Yes." Any trace of sadness gone now, her resolve was written clearly across her face. "I would kill them. I'd _torture_ them the way the had tortured others, kill them in the _exact_ fashion that they had killed so that just before they die, they would understand exactly what their victim had been through."

"No chance for repentance?"

"None."

"Why?"

"They don't deserve it," the vehemence in her own voice startled her.

"And in _this_ world . . ." his lips slowly curved into a smirk. "This twisted, backward world you consider yours, among these people who have no true concept of good and evil, _your_ beliefs-as justifiable as they are-make _you_ evil."

"Okay," Jack stammered, wrapping his arms protectively around himself. "I take back what I said, Frey- you're plenty scary in your own right."

She felt a little placated, but she couldn't forget that this twisted, backward world _was_ hers-it was all she knew. She had things to deal with that didn't involve existential thoughts about good and evil. "I don't know. I mean I have a life, a job, cable and cell-phone bills to pay."

Chase gave a lazy, graceful shrug as he got to his feet. "In joining us, all of your little everyday concerns will be a thing of the past."

"Little everyday concerns . . . ?" Her nostrils flared as she stood, as well. "Don't you speak condescendingly me! They may seem small to you, but they are_ my_ problems to have- and sometimes that's all we _humans_ do have! Hmm, let's see what is your problem? Oh, yes, you want to take over the world. One thing, that's it, just one. Granted it is a big problem, but it still boils down to just _one._ If you had to live a human existence for one week, you would probably be so bogged down with problems you wouldn't know what to do with yourself!"

She didn't know what happened next, only that a ripple of_ power_ came out of him.

Jack and Wuya reflexively took a few steps back. Freya-who was not privy to the Heylin prince's volatile temper tantrums-clenched her teeth, putting every bit of effort she could muster into standing her ground.

Chase stepped directly in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back so she maintained eye contact. "No one has ever spoken to me in such an insolent manner and you would be wise to _never_ do so again."

In the face of his anger, Freya found herself-for the first time in a very long while-utterly speechless. _Okay, maybe not the best person to blow up at . . . ._

Her jaw moved a few times in her attempt to respond, but before she could come up with any-

"Freya! Are you here?" Daphne's voice shouted from two flights down.

The odd, frightening moment completely shattered as four gazes darted around to one another. _Oh, this is just _fucking _perfect._

Running to the door, Freya shouted back. "Yeah, Mom, I'm up here. Be down in a minute."

At the sound of the downstairs steps creaking, the girl slammed the door shut. "She's coming up!"


	4. The Dreaded Nemesis: MOM

Chapter Four  
The Dreaded Nemesis: Mom

"Stop her." Chase ordered, bringing another scoff from Freya.

"She's my mother, not my maid, I can't stop her." The girl dove under her bed, coming out with a pair of strappy black shoes, and tossed them at Wuya. "We're about the same size, put those on- it's a little weird that you don't wear any.

"And you," her brow furrowed as she looked at Chase. "Lose the breastplate and all that metal stuff!"

"Remove my armor?" Chase was so shocked by the request that he had no idea how to respond.

"Yeah, well I think I'm going to have a _little_ trouble explaining a feudal warlord in my room!"

Going wide-eyed with anger for a moment, he almost was in a state of disbelief at what he was doing as he complied with her request.

He growled the words as he handed over his breastplate, greaves and bracers. "The things I do for evil."

Freya managed to stash the armor beneath her bed just as her mother turned the knob.

"I hope you're hungry, I felt kinda bad about forcing you outta the house like that so I . . . ." Daphne's voice trailed off as she finally stepped into the room, her gaze roving over the strangers.

Jack broke into a nervous laugh. "Hi, Mrs. Ish."

Freya rolled her eyes, slapping her forehead as the woman rushed into the room.

Daphne caught the boy in a strangling hug, and then held him out at arms-length. "Jack, I didn't know you were back in town."

"Yeah, just a quick trip. Thought I'd pay Freya a surprise visit."

"Well I'm glad to see you, and I take it these are friends of yours." She said politely as she turned to regard Chase and Wuya.

After Freya made quick introductions, Daphne broke into an easy, if slightly uncomfortable smile. "Well, I picked up some . . . Chinese food- there should be plenty- will you be joining us for lunch?"

What with Jack living in China, and Chase and Wuya looking to be of clear Asian descent, the woman could only hope her coincidental meal choice didn't somehow offend them.

"Yes!" Freya replied, earning her a wrathful stare from Chase over the top of her mother's head. "Yes they will."

"Alright, well then I guess I'll go set the table." Daphne turned to leave, only to pause at the door. "Oh, did you take your iron pills yet?"

"No, mom."

"Freya Persephone Ishtar!"

_Whole name- yikes!_ "Okay, okay! I promise I will take one with lunch, now please just go!"

Grumbling under her breath, her mother exited, closing the door behind her.

After they heard her steps descending the lower staircase, Chase turned to Freya. "In all of my fifteen _hundred_ years, I have endured many things for the sake of evil. However, sharing a meal with a potential apprentice's _mother_ was never one of them."

Hanging her head, she let out a small sigh. "Look, all of my little human problems aside, she's really the only thing tying me here." She raised her face to look at him, though she knew he probably didn't understand. "You want me to go with you guys, fine. But you have to find some way to explain it to her. She's needed me for a while, and only if I _know_ she'll be okay on her own can I go."

"Well, this should be interesting." Jack said, unable to wipe the amused grin from his face as he followed Freya out the door. "Iron pills, huh?"

"I'm anemic."

"When'd that start?"

"Why don't you ask my mother?"

O-O-O

In the dining room, Daphne sat at the head of the table, Freya on her left side with Chase sitting beside her, and Wuya and Jack across from them. The meal began in an awkward silence, Freya none too happy to find one of the aforementioned pills on her plate. She took it reluctantly with a long gulp of soda, and had then set to dishing out food.

The mood seemed to lighten- if only slightly- when Daphne struck up a conversation with Jack about his life in China.

Unfortunately, Jack through this off by asking a question Freya had dreaded would eventually come up. "So, where's Mr. Ish?"

Freya dropped her gaze to her plate.

Daphne looked at her daughter for a long, quiet moment. "I should have guessed she wouldn't have told you."

"It's my fault I don't like to talk about it?"

"Of course not. He . . . well, Jack, Gabriel passed away. He was hit by a city bus. She doesn't talk about it because she was with him when it happened."

Jack suddenly felt bad, reminding himself that villains were allowed sympathy toward allies. "Damn, I'm sorry, Frey."

"When did this happen?" Chase asked in a quiet tone.

Freya looked up at him, proud she didn't have tears in her eyes. "About a year ago."

Realization dawning, he mouthed the words. "I understand now."

"Well," Daphne said, pausing to clear her throat. "Why don't we talk about something more pleasant. Chase, was it? What do you do for a living?"

A strained moment of silence passed between the four of them.

"His family's pretty affluent over there, too," Jack input helpfully, in attempt to explain Chase's stuffy, uptight demeanor.

Daphne didn't look impressed.

Freya piped up after a few seconds. "He's also a spiritual guru of sorts." Knowing her mother like she did, the girl understood that something so ridiculous-sounding would actually be considered a _good thing_.

Daphne's eyes lit up. "How interesting. So are you a monk, or some sort of priest?"

"No, Ma. He's just . . . Chase; nothing weird, like a priest or a cult leader or anything," Freya said with a helpless shrug.

Jack turned disbelieving eyes on his childhood friend. The girl wasn't _exactly_ lying, but she'd made it sound suspicious, all the same.

"Oh, good." Daphne gave a mischievous grin as she looked down at her plate. "Wouldn't want to think you were breaking any vows for my daughter's sake."

"_Mother_!" Freya groaned loudly, dropping her fork.

The woman giggled, observing the way her statement caused a confused, perhaps even startled, look to pass between Chase and Freya. "Sorry, that was a bit forward, huh? Um, so did you two hit it off immediately when Jack introduced you?"

Propping her elbows up on the table, Freya buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. Jack started to laugh, but immediately stopped, crying out in pain as Freya's combat boot connected with his shin.

Wuya enjoyed the misunderstanding a little too much. "What would make you say that?"

Daphne shrugged. "It's just a certain vibe they give off. You've noticed it, too, right?"

Wuya regarded the _couple_ in question with a syrupy-sweet smile. "You know what? I do believe I've been seeing sparks fly between them _all _afternoon."

At this, Chase leaned towards Freya, muttering, but his voice intentionally loud enough to be overheard, dark-gold eyes fixed on Wuya. "I say we kill her."

Freya chuckled darkly, still having yet to lift her head from her hands. "You kill her, I'll hide the body."

"Ya know, Mrs. Ish, I see what you mean." Jack said laughing, yelping as it earned him another bruised shin.


	5. Discomfort on SO Many Levels

Chapter 5

Discomfort on _SO _Many Levels

Daphne decided perhaps it best she veer the conversation in a new direction, now. She could handle only so much of her daughter's awkwardness. Maybe she inferred more than was actually there, but she liked the idea that Freya might have found to have a suitor such as this Chase Young.

She often thought the young woman too brash for her own good, she could likely do with a man fully capable of protecting her _and_ putting up with her. Maybe she hoped too hard, but Daphne considered, for just a moment, how nice it would be if he could be both. How long had it been since Freya had brought home a boyfriend? Even longer since the girl had brought home someone Daphne could stand.

She'd kept an icy expression at the time, but it was also nice to think that he was well off, and could support Freya if such a thing ever came about between them. Certainly, this was far too soon for her to think any such thing, but for all her faults she was _still_ the mother of an utterly and completely directionless grown woman who willfully, and purposefully, lacked any sort of ambition—one of them had to wonder about the future. Under those circumstances, gaining a rich Chinese son-in-law seemed a fantastic outcome to her.

Oh, well, now she _knew_ she was being silly, dismissing her thoughts with an inward chuckle.

Daphne didn't know when her daughter would finally outgrow her, but she could dream.

"Alright, alright," she laughed, waving her hands dismissively. "I won't bring it up anymore. Was that another addition to your collection I saw on your bed?"

Dropping her hands, Freya blinked for a moment as she tried to remember what her mother meant. "Oh, the scepter ! Um, it's actually . . . a prop for my Samhein costume. I was going to try it out when you busted in on us."

"OH, so that explains . . . ." Daphne allowed her voice to trail off as she looked pointedly at Chase, and then Wuya.

Wuya tipped her head to one side, speaking in a rather unladylike fashion around a mouthful of fried wonton. "Explains what?"

"Your costumes. I thought maybe you all dropped by after a cosplay convention or something."

Freya's guests exchanged a confused glance before Jack, understanding dawning in his face, piped up. "Oh, yeah, these two love it- can't get enough of those anime elves."

"Freya tells me that sort of thing is really big in Asia. Guess that's why your ears look so much more realistic than hers; brought the pieces with you from home?"

Chase opened his mouth, appearing slighted, but Freya leapt in before he could blow their perfect, if _highly _coincidental, cover. "Yeah! Thanks for knockin' _my_ costume pieces, but yeah." Adding to her statement, though she didn't notice that she _perhaps_ overstepped a personal-space boundary, she lifted a hand to trace one fingertip delicately along the edge of Chase's ear. "And they feel really authentic. Maybe I should order a pair."

Dark-gold eyes locked on hazel and an unreadable expression crossed his face. He appeared about to say something—she could picture herself being admonished for _taking liberties with his fifteen hundred year old person_—but before he could speak, Daphne chimed in, again.

"No—if you have to order them to ship from Asia, they might not be here in time; Sam Hein's next week. Nothing is wrong with the ones you have. Are you sure you wanna use that, um, 'scepter,' though? It looks like it oughtta be in one of your display cases with the your other antiques."

"_Other_ antiques?" Wuya leaned forward a little at this. "Freya, you are in possession of other items like the scepter?"

Shrugging, Freya chewed her lower lip thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "Well, yeah . . . but _no_, they're not Shen Gong Wu. They can't be."

Daphne's brow furrowed. "Shen Gong _what_?"

Chase cleared his throat, bristling inwardly over having his words cut off _twice__,_ now. "They are . . . a particular collection of items that were owned long ago by a powerful and revered martial arts master. Wuya is a collector of such things."

Her mother's eyes lit up again, as she went on, "Oh, then you really should see Freya's. I think she's got such an eye for those kinds of things."

"But I don't—" Freya's words were cut short as Chase unexpectedly leaned towards her.

His breath whispered over her throat, and his voice in her ear so low that no one else could hear him. "The reason you felt the scepter is because it was no longer dormant—you would not be able to sense them until your items became active. It is _possible_ that some of your antiques may be dormant Wu. You may have been somehow drawn to them all along."

He pulled back from Freya just enough to give her a pointed look.

She wasn't certain how she could tell, but he wanted her to show the items to Wuya, but not to leave the witch unattended with them, dormant or otherwise. Chase wanted to be left alone with her mother—she read a bit _too_ easily that he'd had enough of their little farce—to attempt to explain Freya's need to leave her.

She forced a gulp down her throat. His face being so close _still_ set butterflies zipping madly around in her stomach, but at the same time there was that strange, nagging impression of familiarity between them. Freya only nodded, unable to pull her gaze from his for a moment.

. . . Until Jack sputtered a rather loud, "_A-hem!_"

Freya and Chase immediately turned toward him, only to find that they had become the center of the entire group's attention.

Daphne pinned her daughter with mischievous eyes. "No spark, huh?"

Grumbling under her breath, Freya pushed back from the table and stood. "It wasn't what it looked like, okay? I think I'll show Wuya my collection now."

Shoveling one last wonton into her mouth, Wuya nodded and stood to follow Freya out of the dining room before the girl turned back for a moment. "Ma, do you need help cleaning up?"

"Nah, go, I got this."

Shrugging, Freya continued up the living room steps. "C'mon, Jack."

Jack let out a small, wordless whine. "But I haven't finished-"

"Jack!"

"Al-_right!_ I'm comin'," he growled the exclamation, picking up his plate to take his food with him.

Once they were alone, Daphne turned to Chase. "You're not going with them?"

"You are who I need to speak with, at the moment." He sincerely hoped that she would not make this anymore irritating than it already was. Humans seemed content to complicate even the most simple of matters.

The woman's eyebrows shot up, but she remained silent as he continued.

"This may seem a bit sudden, but Freya has expressed the . . . wish to visit Asia. She would like to accompany us when we return home. However, she is reluctant to leave."

A thin, pained silence stretched between them, and Chase entertained himself by imagining inflicting horrible tortures upon everyone in the house as he waited for the woman to speak.

"You want her to go to China with you?" She asked, finally.

As he heard the words repeated back to him, he understood how truly abrupt and ridiculous this must appear to her. He didn't like it, but a way to endear her to his cause suddenly leapt to mind. He was not in the habit of explaining himself to anyone—let alone a still-human apprentice's mother—but the sooner, and smoother, he could extract himself from this _utterly _inane situation, the better he would feel.

Chase did not imagine that killing her mother, simple and pleasant though the act might be, would gain him that binding trust he needed from the girl.

"It may sound odd to you, but . . ." he chose his statement carefully, playing on Daphne's words regarding his intimate-seeming interactions with her daughter. "You were correct in your observation. There is something between she and I," once more, Freya's statement at the park rang through his head, '_I 've seen you before_'. "However, I am uncertain of exactly what that is. It does feel _unsettlingly_ as though we have known one another a long while."

Again, speaking brought another memory; the delicate touch of her fingertip stroking along the edge of his ear. There was something startlingly familiar in that gentle press of her skin on his. _Why_ had he not put her in her place for doing such a thing? "Perhaps if we are . . . separated so quickly we will not have the opportunity to explore this further."

Lowering her head a moment, Daphne thought out her response before she spoke. "If you were talking to someone else's mother . . . . If you were dealing with a _normal_ family, who didn't have beliefs like ours, I'd probably be throwing you out of my house right now, but you're not." She lifted her head, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "I think I understand what's going on between you two . . . you've only met today, right?"

Chase gave an almost imperceptible nod in response. He fought not to let his disgust show in his expression as he realized she probably thought this some spiritual drivel, like soul-mates, or some other such nonsense.

Perhaps the misconception wasn't her fault; she couldn't know his soul was a black and shriveled thing, kept in a box in the farthest corner of his consciousness. Her belief worked to his advantage, after all.

"And you're certain you really- _really_- want her to go with you?"

He arched an eyebrow as he answered, "I asked her to accompany me and she said that she cannot go because—"

"Because of me, huh?"

Pursing his lips tightly for a moment, he repressed the urge to scowl—more so, he repressed the urge to lunge across the table and rip her head off. The women of the Ishtar line seemed content to push his buttons, for here this woman was, cutting short his words _yet_ again.

"Yes," he said shortly, his tone bordering on icy. "That you are, in fact, the _only _reason she remains here. I believe she has wished for greater things for a long while, but felt obligated to remain and watch over you."

Daphne swallowed hard, a little taken aback by his bluntness, but she could not honestly fault him saying so. She knew he spoke the truth, no matter how oddly eloquent his manner. She _knew_ that she'd unconsciously held her daughter back from leading her own life. She _knew_ that if Gabriel Ishtar had asked her to travel to some exotic country with him the day they first met, she'd have jumped at the chance.

And she _knew_ she could not expect her daughter to respond any differently.

"I understand. I guess I made her into a crutch without realizing." With these words, she stood up from the table. "I'm gonna go tell her it's okay."

"You are certain?" The absolute last thing on this earth Chase Young needed was a steadily empowering sorceress running about his home, wailing for her mother.

Giving a sad smile- a sentiment completely lost on Chase- she nodded. "Yeah, I think . . . I think she'll be okay with you."

Before her wording had the opportunity to irk him—well, to irk him any further than she already had—she tipped her head to one side.

"She'll stay with the Spicers, won't she? I mean, I know she's a grown woman, but . . . she's _still_ my daughter."

Rising from his own seat, he carefully dusted himself off, wondering where the woman got such preposterous notions about him and Freya. "I assure you my intentions are no less than pure." Pure evil was _still_ pure.

"Good." She turned and started for the staircase, Chase following a few steps behind. "Don't think that if I find out otherwise I won't come kill you."

That halted his steps for a moment. Worse than the mental picture of the wailing sorceress was the picture of said sorceress's _mother_, sneaking into his home with murderous- if _highly _laughable- intent. Shaking his head, he simply continued on in silence, wondering when the last time was that he'd allowed his felines to feast upon human flesh.

Entering a room beside the attic stairs, they found Jack seated on a display case, looking bored out of his skull, as Freya handed Wuya another elaborately crafted piece. A hushed—though clearly animated—conversation took place between the two.

Something about the image of the two Heylin Witches giggling quietly together did _not_ sit well with Chase, at _all_. Wuya said something, a mischievous grin curving her red lips, and Freya looked mortified for a long moment.

Sputtering, the girl shook her head as she replied just loudly enough to be heard. "Don't say that —that kind of thing would _never_ happen."

"Freya," Daphne's voice cut through the room, bringing all three gazes to the doorway, but the witches both looked at Chase. "I need to talk to you a minute."

Wuya still wore that mischievous grin, which only seemed to widen, as Freya's small lips folded inward, a clear attempt on her part to not look embarrassed. He didn't like those signals one bit; they could only mean the females spoke about _him._

"Okay, Mom." The girl avoided looking at Chase as she followed her mother out of the room.

Immediately Chase advanced on Wuya, speaking in a harsh whisper, "What was_ that _about?"

Wuya shrugged, smiling still as she turned her attention back to the antique in her hands. "My, my . . . . _Why_ so inquisitive? It was just a little girl talk."

He glanced at Jack who only shook his head in response. "Don't look at me. Once they started to get all giggly, I started to ignore them."

"What was this . . . _girl talk?"_

She shrugged again, setting aside the object in her hands to pick up another. "I asked her about those _delightful_ entries on her computer- if she was writing from experience or—"

"_OH,_" Jack whined, leaping down from his perch. "Ew! Could we _not_ talk about Freya's love-life? I mean, she's almost like a sister to me."

Wuya turned amused acid-green eyes on him. "I hardly think it has _anything _to do with love."

"That is all?" Chase didn't believe the witch to be so innocent in her line of questioning.

Another—nerve grating—shrug. "She said the imagery was supplied largely from her overactive imagination. I asked that if being in such close quarters with _you_ for the next few centuries might cause her to . . . act on any of those _wonderful_ thoughts."

He was utterly enraged for a moment. How _dare_ she have the audacity to make such quandaries in reference to him! "What would _ever_ possess you to assume any such thing?"

She smirked. "_Please_, Chase—we live under the same roof. I've seen what's under that armor during some of your more rigorous training sessions. I merely . . . passed that knowledge along."

"Wuya . . ." he growled. Truly the woman had no sense of boundaries.

"What happened to exploiting her weaknesses?"

"Alright, I'm beggin' both of you to stop talking about this," Jack said plaintively.

Chase turned his head sharply towards Jack. "The only one discussing _this_ is Wuya, and she will cease these inane ramblings this instant if she wishes to keep her head attached to the rest of her body."

"Suit yourself," Wuya said with a sigh as she finished her inspection of the last piece. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

His face fell as he considered her wording; he was at an uncharacteristic loss. "Warned me of wha—"

"Okay!" Freya bounced back into the room, a bit of telltale moistness around her eyes, betraying her suspiciously chipper demeanor. "Looks like I'm going with you guys."

Unexpectedly Jack threw his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "It is gonna be _so_ great having you around!"

Wuya leaned close to Chase for a moment, whispering so only he could hear her. "You see? I'm not the only one who thinks she'll be a breath of fresh air."

The man could only roll his eyes, wondering when evil had decided to become so _very _cruel to him.


	6. Complicating Things

Chapter Six

Complicating Things

Freya frowned as she attempted to wedge more items into the suitcase than it was clearly designed to hold. She'd already securely tucked away the scepter beneath her clothes.

Jack busied himself with arranging her drawings in a large leather folio she'd tossed at him as they chatted back and forth about life in their hometown since he'd left. He knew she forced the cheerfulness—that he and Freya had each been the other's only true friend, that she could not care less for anyone here other than her mother—but he let it go.

Stomping over to her desk in her _still _unlaced combat boots, she began copying her files onto a flash drive. "Oh, wait! Do we have internet access over there?"

"Yeah, I wired the lair a while back."

"Oh, good; otherwise I'd have some seriously pissed off readers on my hands."

He nodded, disliking that Wuya's words echoed in his head, but they were alone now. Chase was left to grumble angrily to himself in her show room—apparently two of the objects _were_ dormant Wu, but would be of little use until they activated, at which time they would return for them—and Wuya discussed imaginary travel plans over coffee with Mrs. Ish.

"Freya? I don't wanna ask, but . . . were you telling Wuya the truth?"

She looked up at him, brow furrowed. "About what?"

He sat on the bed, looking over the drawings he had yet to file away. "About your, uh . . . _mature _writing?"

"Oh . . . ." She dropped her gaze, giving a nervous giggle. "Well, I'm not that scrawny little girl anymore, Jack. I've had boyfriends, and I'm not exactly innocent, but like I said, a lot of it _is_ my imagination."

Jack stopped, one page clutched, a little _too_ tightly, in his hand as his jaw went slack. "Your imagination, huh?"

"Yeah, what can I say? I have some _very_ vivid dreams sometimes." Lifting her gaze to him, alarm washed through her at the expression on his face. "Jack, what is it?"

"Do you, uh, sometimes draw things based on your dreams?"

She made her way over to him slowly, unsettled by his tone. "Yeah, that's kind of an . . . artist thing, isn't it? Why?"

He looked pointedly at the lower right-corner for the date of the picture. _Whoa, that long ago? She's gonna flip! _"Um," he held the page out to her, "who does _that_ look like?"

Taking the page from him, she looked it over. Lovers in a passionate embrace, not exactly something she'd wanted Jack, of _all_ people, to see. She could remember that dream perfectly. She had darker skin, and hair the color of a sunlit ruby, but she couldn't recall her lover's face when she woke up and, at the time, only hope'd she portrayed him right. Now, she looked more carefully at the image; now the face she could never recall was strikingly familiar . . . .

_Now_ that face even had a name.

"Oh, ye _gods _. . . ." She was so stunned he could have knocked her over with a feather.

"Frey, you drew that -"

"I _know_ when I drew it, Jack," she snapped, suddenly illogically angry with him for finding it- yesterday this had only been another picture she'd drawn, but now, _Now_, this was an image seared into her memory. "How the hell did that happen?"

"You're asking me?"

"I- I just . . . oh, _man,_ is this embarrassing."

"Yeah, well maybe you should leave it here."

Hazel eyes narrowed at him. "Yeah, so my _mother_ can find it? Good call, Jack."

"Then you better keep it tucked away and hope that Chase doesn't see it."

"Hope that I do not see what?"

Two sets of confused gazes found Chase standing just inside the door. Jack turned to Freya, who immediately put the paper behind her back.

"Nothing," they replied in unison.

Freya gaped for a moment as Chase _literally_ vanished from sight. Instantly the page was snatched from her hand and she whirled around, horrified to find him looking at the drawing.

An instant welling up of anger rippled off of him in waves. She involuntarily backpedaled a few steps. Thin veins of blood red threaded through the whites of his eye as his attention went from the picture to the girl standing before him.

Her senses jarred painfully as she was slammed into a wall, Chase's hand gripped mercilessly around her throat. His face was so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her little fingers clawed at his wrist, but it was no use, he held her so that the toes of her boots scraped the floor as she struggled to gain any sort of leverage.

In the back of her mind she fervently wished she could summon that near-useless ability of hers; though—even in her panicked state—she didn't imagine hurling some random object at him would do much to better her situation.

He held the image up with his free hand so that she could see it clearly. "What is _this_?"

She gasped for air, but in his anger he didn't realize she couldn't voice any response.

"_Where_ did you come upon this image?"

Jack rose from the bed, trying to make Chase see reason. "She can't answer you if you're choking her!"

Chase seemed reluctant to think clearly, regarding Jack with a growl. "Then you will answer for her."

Jack looked at Freya's face. Tears streamed from her eyes as she dragged in another shallow, ragged gasp and nodded insistently.

"It was from a dream she had."

"I am to _believe_ this?"

Concern for his friend finally overrode his fear, and Jack snatched the page from Chase's hand, holding that bottom corner in front of the man's eyes. "Look! She drew it two _years _ago! In her world, ink can't lie!"

Confusion shown finally through his rage and Chase released her.

Freya slipped down the wall as she clutched at her throat, drawing in huge, grateful gulps of air. She could feel his anger subsiding, but it didn't matter because her own was growing in its place.

"Chase . . ." she began weakly in a rasping murmur and he looked down at her, his dark gold eyes uncharacteristically bewildered as the red, curling veins faded from them, "if you . . . ever do _anything_ like that to me again . . ." she paused, thinking of a viable threat, since she was clearly incapable of causing him any physical harm yet, "I _swear_ . . . I will go join the Xiaolin."

At this even Jack looked at her wide-eyed.

Chase took a few calming breaths before he responded. "And you would do this just to spite me?"

"Yes," she whispered, noting that her threat had, in fact, gotten to him. "_Just_ to spite you."

He smirked, offering her his hand, but genuinely surprised when she actually allowed him to help her up. "Then you are _already_ on the right side."

Freya couldn't understand her thoughts on this, but despite his action she was still fully willing to go with them. "I mean what I said."

He nodded and she could have sworn she saw something like respect in his eyes. "I know, and perhaps someday I will tell you why you very nearly lost your life over a simple drawing."

"Looking forward to it."

Jack couldn't put his finger on it, but something unnamed passed between them. He wasn't entirely certain he wanted to know what that something was, either, but he felt he understood, somehow. It was like they truly _saw_ each other for the first time. _What the _hell _is going on?_

Chase and Freya both stood, calming their breathing, were both flushed and stared at eachother through menacingly narrowed eyes. Some tension seemed to have broken between them, though. The bizarre moment gave the air that _feeling,_ as though despite their angry expressions they might just burst out laughing.

If he'd not witnessed the whole thing, he would think they looked like they'd just finished a rather intense screaming-match _Or,_ Jack's thoughts became a bit troubled suddenly, _they look like they were just interrupted in the middle of—_

"Did I miss something?" Wuya's voice chimed, sickly-sweet from the doorway.

Jack turned to find Wuya and Daphne entering the room, Chase and Freya however seemed reluctant to end their staring contest.

"Just . . . ." Freya's voice trailed off as she brought her fingers to her neck, but—as she was about to touch the tender flesh, appeared to think better on it—only delicately grasped the silver goddess pendant that hung at the hollow of her throat. "Just our first argument."

The girl's mother lowered her head, smiling thoughtfully while Wuya's eyes darted about the room, as though she was trying to read something from the air, itself.

"Pity," the witch muttered in an amused tone, "and here it felt like something _interesting_."

At this, Chase and Freya both turned finally to scowl at her. Mrs. Ishtar continued into the room, stepping around the bed, and breezing past Chase to place her hands on her daughter's shoulders. For a long moment, the two simply looked at eachother and Jack realized—with the exception of Daphne's hair and eyes being a natural rich brown color—just how much Freya resembled her mother.

"Do you have your passport and everything?"

Freya nodded, looking sad. "Yeah . . . I guess—I guess once Jack finishes putting my _drawings _away," she paused momentarily as Jack went wide-eyed, remembering his half-finished task, and hastily shuffled the rest of the papers into the folio, "I'm ready as I'll ever be."

Daphne frowned a bit. "Aren't you excited? I mean, going to China with your friends on a private plane? I'd be beside myself."

At these words, Freya's brow furrowed as she wondered absently, '_wait . . . just how the hell are we getting to . . . where ever the _hell _it is we're going?' _"I am; it's just . . . this seems kinda sudden, don't you think?"

Her mother's voice dropped to a whisper, the language lost on Jack, though he'd heard it in this house before. "The greatest moments in life often move fast. People who allow themselves to get scared off by that have _no_ idea how much they miss out on."

Chase and Wuya—with the decidedly unfair advantage of grasping every known human dialect—understood the words as an odd blend of Rom and Yiddish.

Freya muttered a response in the same tongue, "But . . . I'm worried about you."

Drawing her daughter into her arms, Daphne hugged her tightly reverting to English once more. "I'll be alright. You just have a good time."

Freya made a face and both Jack and Chase could see she was struggling not to react to the way her mother's shoulder was pressed to her lightly bruising throat. She hugged Daphne back lightly and then pulled away.

"You're not walking us to the door?"

Daphne shook her head, blinking back tears and smiling. "No, I think I'll stay here and clean up. You and Jack made quite a mess."

Jack and Freya exchanged a sheepish glance. "Oops, sorry."

"Nevermind," Daphne waved dismissively as she turned and began picking up discarded clothing, "just make sure to call me the moment you land. I'll call your boss for you in the morning. I guess I'll tell him you quit?"

The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She nodded; she never really liked working at the electronics shop, anyway. Such modern crap never felt like _her_. "Yeah . . . yeah. Thanks, Mom."

As they were about to exit, Chase remarked in a bored tone, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Freya blinked at him for a moment before remembering what he was talking about. "Oh, right." She dashed back to her bed and fished his armor out from under it.

Daphne gave them a quizzical look, but Freya shrugged nonchalantly. "His costume."

With that, Freya lead the group silently out of the house and down the block as Chase slipped his breastplate back on.

They continued walking in silence until she noticed that they were headed right back to the park. "Wait . . . why are we going _there_?"

Chase arched an eyebrow at the hint of trepidation in her voice. The girl seemed quite reluctant to have the good common sense to admit fear of _anything_, himself included, and yet she was afraid of a simple landmark. "I must reopen the portal from the point where we entered."

Her brow furrowed, although she didn't quite understand, he clearly thought this an adequate response. "Oh, a _portal_ . . . how quaint."

Jack chuckled, Wuya snorted a short laugh and Chase gave a small, aggravated sigh. "Apparently evil has seen fit to test my patience by consigning _you_ to the Heylin."

Her footsteps halted as they passed the park gates. "Ya know if that's how you really feel about this whole thing, maybe I should save you the _trouble_ of my little human irritations and go to the—"

Chase rounded on her suddenly, his gaze venomous as it locked on hers. "You will do _no_ such thing, and I will hear _no_ more talk of it!"

Freya beat back the snide insult she that formed on her tongue. In a way, he was right to get angry at her for throwing out the threat so flippantly. Hadn't she already told him she'd only cross sides if he injured her again? Small lips folding inward nervously, she nodded.

He nodded in response and turned on his heel, setting off once more.

She hung her head a moment, giving a sigh. _This is gonna be a _long _few centuries. _She fell into step a few paces behind him, dragging her overstuffed suitcase on its little, scraping wheels.

Wuya ducked her head, whispering to Jack as they followed, "Really . . . what _did_ I miss?"

Turning to her for a moment, Jack swallowed loudly before giving a little nervous giggle. "Ya know, funny thing, I was there and I'm still not sure what happened."

Wuya looked mischievous again and Jack didn't even _want_ to wonder what went through the woman's skull. "It certainly _is_ going to be interesting having her around, don't you think?"

Jack could only shake his head as they made their way single-file through the hole in the fence to tromp in the woods. If Freya was anything like she'd been when they were kids, then _interesting_ was an understatement. The girl simply attracted trouble to her- even when she tried to avoid it, as though trouble came to find her.

At last they were in the clearing again, the hole Freya had dug up rather conspicuous, and clumps of the dried grass torn up from their scuffle with the Xiaolin. Chase held his hand out, feeling in the air for something. After only a moment a spiral of black, flickering energy rippled out from his palm and she forced a gulp down her throat as a _portal_ did, in fact, open before them.

He gestured for her to step through, but she turned away, eyes fixed on the skyline.

"What _are_ you doing?" he demanded quietly.

"Just . . . look, it's gonna be a while before I get to see this again. Just . . . gimme a minute."

Freya bit her lip as she examined the shoreline; the way the waves met the sky, mirroring the setting autumn sun. "I hate this place," she muttered just loud enough to be heard, "I hate this place, but I'll always love this view."

Jack saw the hint of moistness creep into her eyes. "Frey . . . you alright?"

Shaking her head, she feigned a smile at him. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Nodding, despite not believing her—he was sure she'd hit him if he pushed—he stepped through and she followed, stopping dead in her tracks on the other side of the portal.

Standing on the ledge of a steep cliff side, her jaw dropped open. She overlooked a desolate landscape that resembled something like a Christian depiction of hell.

"Where the fuck are we?"

"The Land of Nowhere," Chase's voice informed from somewhere behind her.

Jack smiled, somewhat proudly. "Yup, and _that's_ your new home." With a pointed finger, he drew Freya's gaze to a mountain in the distance. A monstrous face carved into the side with a gaping mouth stared back at her; torches illuminated the eyes and called attention to jagged teeth.

"_That_?"

He shrugged, "It's much nicer on the inside, trust me."

"_Riiight . . . ."_ Pushing aside her doubt, she turned to Chase. "So, how are we getting way over there from here? Another portal?"

"No, we will fly."

"Fly?" She echoed, wide-eyed. "Perhaps you've forgotten, but I'm human. I can't fly!"

"Not for another few decades, at least, anyway."

She watched in awe as Wuya took to the air, looking oddly graceful with her long hair and the tail of her dress swirling around her.

Jack grabbed her suitcase and took a device from his pocket pushing a button; the propellers popping up from his backpack and lifting him from the ledge.

"Okay, Jack- what the hell is that thing?"

Jack gave another proud smile. "My heli-bot."

The two held back over the cliff, hovering in wait.

"Okay, again, maybe you guys are forgetting that I can't—"

Her words were cut off as she gave a very loud, startled—and _completely_ un-Freya-like—"_Eep,"_ as Chase locked his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side.

Before she had time to freak out or try to push away, they were in the air. She screamed, the wind rushing past her as he dipped dangerously close to jagged mountain peaks. She wanted to kick herself for screaming—one of the many stupid-girly-things she swore she'd never do in a moment of imminent peril, but _still _she couldn't stop herself.

"You will cease that racket." The girl fell silent the moment the admonishment left his lips. "Do you fear heights?"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she managed to get her vocal cords to work. "Heights, no—falling, _yes."_

"Then do not look," he muttered, as though closing her eyes would lessen the surge of frightening adrenaline in her veins from soaring through the air at break-neck speed with nothing to hold onto.

"That's kinda difficult."

"Find a way."

"You asked for it." Curling her body inward against his, she gripped her fingers into the top edge of his breastplate and ducked her head, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He spoke with intermingling threads of anger and discomfort in his voice. "This is _quite_ inappropriate."

She lifted her head just enough to reply, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth a little too close to his ear for his liking. "This will _quite _stop me from screaming every time you damn near gouge us on a mountain peak."

"Very well," he growled, oddly grateful when she removed her mouth to bury her face against his neck once more.

Suddenly his entire frame tensed, and she felt them pick up speed. Lifting her head, she tried to look around, but found her vision obscured by annoyingly pretty long black hair.

"_What_? What's wrong?"

"We have intruders."

Twisting her neck uncomfortably, her gaze came instantly upon the dragon she'd seen in the park . . . only about _thirty _times larger, and carrying the Xiaolin on his back. The enormous green serpent was headed directly for them. _Just when I think this day can't get _any _fucking weirder . . . ._

"Do not look," Chase ordered and she nodded quickly, ducking her head into him again.

A scorching heat zipped past them, followed by Chase's enraged words, "Control your aim, Wuya!"

They plummeted and Freya bit hard into her bottom lip to keep from screaming again. He was trying to avoid a rampaging dragon, as well as friendly fire; she didn't want to distract him. He turned and they ascended again, their speed made her heart drop into her stomach.

The strength of the wind pressing down on her caused her to lose her grip on his armor; the only thing supporting her now was his arm at her waist as she struggled to regain her hand-hold. Just as her fingertips slid back into place, something barreled into them _hard_. The abrupt strike jarred her right out of Chase's grasp and she fell.

Her fear, and the rush of the wind past her caused her heart to constrict painfully in her chest; her lungs barely managed to draw in enough air as she threw her arms up to shield her face. Amidst the panic and senseless noises assaulting her ears, she felt a quiet, soothing darkness trying to steal over her.

She tried to fight it, but suddenly—she gave into yet another _stupid-girly-thing_ she swore she'd never do under _any_ circumstances—Freya fainted.

Chase dove to catch her, but was instantly brought up short at the sight of Dojo soaring beneath her in an oddly timed manner. Kimiko caught her unsteadily, nearly slipping off the dragon's back herself before Clay grabbed them both.

He could hear that fool Rai laugh—a sound of surprise at one's own dumb luck—as he drew out the Golden Tiger Claws. "Well, that was easier than I thought it'd be."

Wuya hurled a fire bolt toward the Xiaolin, but Chase caught it, extinguishing the blaze neatly in his hand.

"Chase, wha—"

"You may hit the girl."

"_Golden Tiger Claws_!" Rai tore a hole in the space before them and the Xiaolin disappeared from sight.

The three hovered, still looking at the place where Dojo had disappeared. Wuya and Jack sputtered questions and demands.

Chase held up a hand and they both immediately fell silent. "Relax . . . it is not as though we do not know where they will go."


	7. Xiaolin Monks: Kidnappers at Large

Chapter Seven

Xiaolin Monks: Kidnappers at Large!

Freya stirred a bit, trying not to let the irritating buzz in her ears awaken her. The dream she was having was simply _too _pleasant, and she didn't imagine whatever she might wake up to would put her in a terribly good mood. She was still asleep enough to brush aside what she heard and focus on the feel of lips gently ghosting over the side of her throat, but awake enough to know that the blissful sensation was only a dream.

She didn't want to move away from this; didn't want to be pulled away from those strangely familiar eyes she knew would never look at her with _that_ sort of heat in them in reality. The voices just on the edge of her hearing became louder, their words easier to understand.

Why did these things always happen during the _best_ part of dreams like this?

"She din seem like she had any power at awl, not with awl that hollerin' an' runnin' away with 'er tail between 'er legs she was doin'," a male voice she was sure she'd heard once before said. _Okay, so unless another cowboy pops up, he's probably_ Clay.

"_Do not go," he whispered in her ear, his tone never once losing that edge of command, sharp fangs grazing delicately over the sensitive lobe._

"That is because she does not, yet," an older man's voice said, colored with only a hint of an indiscernible Asian accent, "and will not be for _quite _some time."

_She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, tenderly tracing the muscles of his abdomen with curious, eager fingertips. "I _really _don't want to, but . . . ."_

"So she's like what, Wuya-lite?" This voice called to her sleep-befuddled mind the picture of some dude on a surfboard . . . _which makes him _Rai.

"_I can hear them and they're _not _going away," she murmured with rueful angst__- __his lips moved lower, his tongue swept across the flesh along the low-cut edge of her top—she _really _didn't want to go._

"_So soon," he said and she felt his lips smile against her skin- though she knew he wasn't one much for _smiling_, so perhaps _smirk _was a better suited description, "but we have only just started."_

"_I know," she replied; he unzipped her top, his head dipped lower._

_She was _really _angry with whoever those irritating voices belonged to, because his hands had slipped below her waist now, but suddenly she remembered what had happened in the waking world._

_She'd been kidnapped . . . by the _good _guys! _What the fuck?

Hazel eyes snapped open as Freya instantly sat bolt upright—and immediately wished she hadn't, gritting her teeth against the responding head-rush. Every voice silenced and she knew they were looking at her. _Sure, _now _they shut up . . . ._

Giving her head a shake, she opened her eyes and looked around the courtyard. Sure enough she found herself on a cot, the Xiaolin gaping at her like an animal at the zoo. A new addition to the group was an older Asian man with a Van Dyke goatee, dressed in casual robes, the once-again-tiny dragon perched dutifully on his shoulder.

She waited for one of them to speak, to say _anything_, but after a few more moments of awkward silence, she felt pretty certain that they'd not thought their plan out _quite_ this far. Chewing on her lip, she wondered what her response to her predicament should be. Should she rail at them? Bawl hysterically about being kidnapped?

The second option was immediately discarded on merit of its completely un-Freya-like quality alone. Should she just jump up, run away and _hope _the Heylin might find her wherever the hell she happened to be? One corner of her mouth twitched at that question- unless Chase had her lo-jacked, that didn't seem a likely option, either. So, railing it was.

"What the _hell_ is the matter with you people?" Her voice gained volume with each word until she was yelling. "Are you all _completely_ fucking nuts?"

A small voice piped up and Freya turned toward the speaker, her gaze falling on the little monk. "We are completely sane. We rescued you from the Heylin."

She couldn't believe her ears. "Rescued? Did . . . did you really just say that? I mean, really just say that? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but since when does rescue involve attacking the _flying_ man carrying the girl who _can't_ fly hundreds of feet above the ground?"

The old man- _Master . . . Fang . . . F . . . Fung! Chase said Master Fung-_ sighed and, for a moment, she almost felt herself calmed by his demeanor; as though his presence alone threw cold water on fiery tempers. "I apologize for the actions of the young monks. They reacted rashly, but they truly believed they were doing what was in your best interests."

She gave herself a shake, pushing away the placating affect of Master Fung's voice. She _wanted _to be angry, and was pretty certain she had every right to be. "My best interests or the best interests of the Xiaolin?"

"Hello," a feminine voice scoffed and Freya turned toward the fashion-plate, _Kimiko, she's the only girl, so she's gotta be Kimiko._ "It's in _everyone's _best interests. Maybe nobody clued you in, but the Heylin are _evil_."

Freya felt her eyes go wide as she responded in a simple tone, "I know."

"Huh?" several voices asked in unison.

"Yeah," she went on, "they told me themselves- or rather, Chase told me."

The little monk shook his head sadly, "You cannot trust anything Chase Young says."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You're Omi, right? Yeah, he told me about _you," _he lowered his eyes shamefully as she continued, "and I _don't_ trust them- don't trust you guys, either for that matter."

"And you still went with them?" The question brought her gaze back to Rai.

"Yeah—they didn't _kidnap_ me," Freya paused, her attention returning to Omi. "They didn't _lie _to me. And you all probably can't understand this, but . . . after talking with them I think maybe I belong with them." Several voices began to sputter protests, but she shook her head, her eyes drifting closed with a resigned sigh, "I know that there's nothing I can say to make you believe that they didn't trick me or brainwash me, but it's true."

"Are you _stupid?"_ Kimiko asked in shock.

Freya looked at Kimiko in silence for a long moment, her jaw setting as she tried to beat back the words, _say that again _that she could feel on the tip of her tongue. "No, princess, but they did come to talk to me—they _asked_ me to go with them."

"Look, stop defending them for a few minutes and think about what they're capable of," Rai's Brazilian accent thickened just a hint as he exclaimed the words, throwing his hands in the air in disgust.

"I'm not defending them, but you guys are _so_ blinded by your black and white vision of good and evil that you think it's okay for you to pull underhanded shit so long as it's in the name of good!" She had no idea why they were both getting so agitated so quickly, but she'd be damned if he was going to bully her into _seeing things _his _way._ "Hmm, which cliché to use for this one; the ends don't justify the means or the road to hell is paved with good intentions? For fuck's sake, the Heylin even had a nice chat over lunch with my _mother_."

"Oh, well, now you're jus' pullin' ar legs," Clay drawled.

"No, I'm not . . . maybe that's why _Jack _has my Wu."

"Ah, crap," said Rai, "why did you give it to _him_?"

"I _didn't_," yup, this Rai dude was the first name on Freya's brand new list of people-who's-asses-to-kick-once-I'm-a-_real-_Heylin-Witch. "It was in my suitcase, which _he_ was carrying for me."

"She is an outsider and a female, she couldn't know how wrong her decision was," Omi said in a tone like he was thinking reasonably.

Freya glanced at Omi, noticing from the corner of her eye the scowl that suddenly marred Kimiko's features. "I get the outsider part . . . but what does my gender have to do with anything?"

Kimiko placed a hand on Freya's shoulder as she shook her head. "Jus' . . . ignore him. Seriously, he's got some old fashioned views I haven't managed to beat out of him, yet."

"Ah." Though she hardly found this a satisfactory response, she realized instantly that, outside of Kimiko and Wuya, the little man probably had _zero_ experience dealing with the fairer sex in any capacity, so she did as the other girl suggested and ignored him.

Kimiko set herself down almost heavily on the edge of the cot. "Wait, suitcase? You mean you're _moving in_ with Chase Young?"

Dyed cinnamon eyebrows drew together as she heard the notion spoken aloud, but she brushed her concerns aside. "Not _exactly, _just sort of staying with him while I train; at least I'll have something pretty to look at for the next couple o' centuries. You can't tell me he doesn't have really nice hair."

Cocking her head to one side, Kimiko looked thoughtful for a moment as she touched a hand to her own gleaming black locks. "I hate to admit it, but you're right he _does_. I always wondered what sort of conditioner he uses."

Freya shrugged lightly, tapping a finger to her chin. What _was_ scent coming from his hair? "I'm sure I could find out, but then it might be some weird supernatural thing. I don't know if he'd actually _tell_ me, but I—"

"Oh. My. _God_!" Both young women turned to find Rai gaping at them in something like horror. "This is _serious_ and you're having _girl-talk_? What are you, The Chase Young Fan Club?"

Freya straightened up suddenly as she was overcome with a rather distinct sense of something familiar drawing near. She didn't know what the feeling was, but as soon as she attempted to analyze it, an image of Chase appeared before her mind's eye.

"So, you're just ready to hop on the Heylin band wagon without a second thought because Chase Young has _pretty hair_?" Rai's voice was incredulous, clearly unnoticing of the fact that she was too startled to be insulted by the _you_ stupid _woman_ tone he was using, or feel embarrassed at what he sounded like he was implying—that maybe Chase Young's hair wasn't the only thing about the Heylin prince she found pretty.

Her head turned, almost against her will, as she scanned for any sign of the man in question. "Um . . . I've not, uh, not actually joined them, _yet_."

"Yeah, right! You _really_ want us to believe that they're behaving like the good guys and you're not—"

"She speaks the truth," a cold voice piped up suddenly from behind him.

Freya's eyes snapped in the direction of those words and she wanted to kick herself for almost smiling . . . with _relief_, of course . . . .

In the blink of an eye, the Xiaolin were on their feet, assuming fighting stances. Looking _far_ from intimidated, Chase's eyebrows lifted fractionally as he calmly folded his arms across his chest.

He was alone and Freya spared a moment to wonder where Wuya and Jack were. That was possibly because sight of him made her want to think about _anything_ but the sadly pretty dream she had only a few minutes earlier. Yes, with his irritating ability to read her like an open book, the thought of his lips on her throat, or his hands sliding down her— the _last _thing she wanted on her mind right now was any of that!

"If you really wish for me to best all of you that is fine, but I have only come to collect Freya and that leaves me sorely lacking in time for games."

Freya blinked as she digested the words. Why did insults have so much more bite to them when phrased eloquently?

"Yeah, well, you're going home empty-handed," Rai spat, tightening his fists, "your girlfriend stays here."

Rolling her eyes Freya piped up, "Knock that shit off! There is nothing like that going—"

"Well then why do you not simply ask her what _she_ wants? Or do you intend to keep her here against her will?" Chase shrugged lightly as his gaze moved past Rai to land on Freya.

She became only more flustered that _he_ had made no attempts to contradict Rai's statement. _Where's all your vehement disgust, stupid_? But then she had to remind herself he wasn't a human-and he was, like, twenty times older than any of them-he probably hasn't even registered Rai's use of the term.

The Xiaolin didn't drop their guard, but all turned to look at her. She could tell from their faces that they already knew what her answer would be. Not like they'd done a spectacular job of trying to win her over, either.

"So, which is it," Rai began, his head hanging just a bit in defeat. "Us or them?"

"Rai, right?"

He nodded, his brow furrowing.

"Would you even know my name if Chase hadn't said it just now?"

She could tell by his expression that he was going to respond with an automatic no, but he quickly shook his head. "Yes. Jack said it when we were in that park."

That was true, but . . . he didn't sound positive. Not one of them had bothered to do, or say anything other than pester her about choosing the Heylin. No _you're name's Freya, right?_ No, _don't worry, we'll get you back home_, or _we'll keep you safe_. Wasn't that traditional good guy rhetoric?

"My point, Rai, is that you have no use for me other than keeping me away from the Heylin. Do you?"

"Now wait a sec, that ain't fair! We've been trying to find out what the deal is with you," he said defensively, gesturing to a table not far from where she'd woken.

She followed his outstretched fingers to a pile of unfurled scrolls. That might have cracked her stubbornness a little, if not for one thing. "Why didn't you just ask me if I knew what my _deal _was?"

Rai's face fell, his gaze roving about helplessly before returning to her. Nobody answered.

"Wow," she said quietly. She felt like . . . these Xiaolin didn't see her as an actual person. She knew that was likely her imagination, but that didn't take the sour sting out of the feeling.

Lowering her eyes, Freya rose slowly, busying herself with dusting off her clothes before she answered with a slow shake of her head. "I'm sorry, but it's _them_. You know that whole 'the next time we meet we'll be enemies' thing." She strode over to stand beside Chase, still didn't lift her gaze from the ground. "You guys will probably kick my ass if we ever get into it, 'cause I'm still new to all of this and _so_ rusty at martial arts I could probably get whupped by Jack right now, but trust me. I'm just _not_ Xiaolin material."

"You cannot know that," Omi said quietly.

"Yes, I can. Ya see . . . ." Freya lifted her head, her eyes just a bit moist as they rested on the little monk. "I already killed my Dad. I _belong _on the evil side."

The faces of the Xiaolin fell in shock and she could feel Chase's slightly puzzled gaze on her.

She tossed one, last, vehement glare at Rai. "My _deal_ is that I'm a Heylin Witch."

"So," she sniffled as she looked up at Chase, "we're going, right?"

Chase nodded silently, locking an arm around her waist. "Please do restrain yourself from shrieking this time."

The Xiaolin watched helplessly as Chase shot upwards, disappearing almost instantly from sight.

"She's right," Rai said, shouting his words to make sure that irritating little woman heard him, "I'm _gonna_ kick her ass!"

O-O-O

Again Freya's small fingers were gripped into his breastplate, her head ducked down against his neck. She was pretty sure she would _never_ get used to this flying-bit. Being held by him made memories of that damned dream resurface, and she stuffed them back down, lifting her head slightly to draw in a sigh. _It was probably just 'cause of that _stupid _drawing or I would _never _think of _him _like that._

"What did you mean?" He raised his voice only slightly over the sound of the wind rushing past them. "When you said you killed your father?"

"Oh," she bit deep into her bottom lip for a long moment before she replied. "Well, you know that thing when I threw that book at Jack?"

He nodded. "Yes that _was_ quite amusing."

"Well, it started this one day when I was with my dad . . . we were crossing the street against the light, and we were arguing." Freya paused and took a deep breath—somehow she _never_ thought she'd get to tell this part of the tragic story to anyone. "I don't even remember what it was about now, but it was _really_ ugly. I do remember that I wanted to drop it, but he wouldn't. I was trying to get to the train station. I told him to just go back to work, but . . . he just kept following me. I remember just being _so_ angry . . . and I told him to stop—and I mean, like, when I yelled that word, I did it with _every_ fiber of my being; I can't remember ever doing that before. I get across the street and realize he's not behind me, when I turn around he's literally stopped, right there in the path of an oncoming bus and he couldn't move."

Her voice seemed to tremble just a bit, but she continued on as though she didn't notice. "I tried, ya know, to fix whatever I'd just done, but I _couldn't_, I didn't know how. The driver slammed on the brakes, but it was too late."

"Impressive," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Ew!" Freya was pretty sure killing someone because you were mad at them was anything _but_ impressive. _Oh, wait, he's like the _Prince _of all evil._ "I don't think so, you wanna teach me to control this so I don't like, one day cause my head to spontaneously combust or something, right? Well, that's fine, but just don't ever bring this subject up again."

"So then _that _is why your power has not developed any further?"

Blinking, Freya removed a hand from his armor to brush the length of his hair out of her face; still she couldn't place the scent of it. "What do you mean?"

He did not bother to look at her as he opened a portal before them and flew through— was she really _so_ hapless he needed to spell everything out for her? "This incident was a year ago and yet you have made no further progress with this ability, correct?"

"Yeah."

"And that is because you were trying not to use it, this is correct as well?"

She nodded mutely as they finally landed and she found herself standing on the mouth-ledge of the monster-faced mountain. A slab of rock fell down from the upper part of the hideous mouth to reveal an entryway and she tried not to jump at the loud, grinding crash of the impact.

Gaping at the torch-lit path before them, she sputtered, "Does, um, does it _always_ do that?"

He nodded and started forward. "Unless Spicer is standing at the entrance, of course."

"What happens then?"

She could swear she heard humor in his voice as he replied, "It . . . responds appropriately."

(A.N. for anyone who didn't get Chase's answer at the end, every time Jack has approached the door to Chase's liar, it falls on him or slams him into the mountainside- think of it like him getting . . . squashed like an insect. Appropriate, see? XD )


	8. Mary Sue in the House of Heylin

SPOOF CHAPTER:

Mary Sue in The House of Heylin

(parody for amusement purposes only)

A sharp gasp pulled Chase's eyes from the issue of _Better Lairs& Dungeons_ he was reading over his daily cup of Lao Mang Lon soup. Before him stood a girl he'd never seen before. Noting her physique—almost dreadfully thin, but with a remarkably full chest that her tattered, but still strangely becoming monk's robe barely concealed—he quirked an eyebrow, thinking that was he a lesser being he might find her attractive.

"You're Chase Young, right?" The strange girl asked, her voice like music.

Setting his jaw, he placed the magazine down and neatly folded his hands on the table before him. "Who are you and how did you get in?"

She took a step closer, pushing a delicate hand through her cascading purple locks. "My name is Tymara, I'm a Xiaolin Dragon."

The Heylin prince refrained from rolling his eyes and went back to calmly sipping his soup. "No, you are not- I assure you that I am quite well acquainted with the Xiaolin."

"Yes, I am," silver eyes gaped imploringly at him—though the effort was _entirely_ lost on the man. "I'm the Dragon of Lightning and I've been training with Master Monk Guan almost since I could walk. They hid me from everyone because they were so afraid I would be kidnapped by—"

Chase cut her off with a bored sigh. "I will ask again, _how_ did you get in here?"

"Oh, that was easy, just looking at the front gate I was able to understand the locking mechanism and from there, I just—"

"What are you _doing_ here, Dragon of Lightning?"

Looking suddenly, unexpectedly—_bothersomely_—on the verge of tears, she dropped to her knees before him. "Please, you must listen, I was told by Omi of the conflict within you."

Dark eyebrows lifting fractionally, he gave another bored sigh. "I _assure_ you that I am quite content with my lot in life. If that is all, then please, do make a hasty departure before you cause my patience to wear thin."

"But that's not all. When Omi told me, I had to come see for myself and he was right. There's still a little good in you somewhere! I'm a bit psychic and I can sense things about people and you—"

A flying combat boot connected hard with the side of the girl's head, cutting short her words as she crumbled to the floor. Cocking his head to one side, Chase turned to see Freya wearing the matching boot in the entryway. She walked unevenly to the _thankfully_ unconscious Xiaolin Dragon and retrieved her boot. Staring down at the dazzlingly pretty girl, Freya grumbled something about floatation devices as she shoved her foot into her boot

"Some psychic you are," Freya quipped as Chase rose and came to stand nearby, peering down at the _Dragon of Lightning_ as well.

"I see your aim is improving."

Grinning sheepishly, she replied with a small shrug. "Actually . . . I _was_ going for her throat."

Chase rolled his eyes, his eyelids fluttering rapidly with the impatience of the gesture. "Yet another thing I will add to your already _voluminous_ list of attributes to work on; back to training with you, then."

Jack entered the room; his nose stuck in a comic book and so focused on gnawing at a bit of pizza crust that he didn't notice the spectacle of the fallen female monk until he nearly tripped over her. "Whoa . . . okay. What's _that_?"

Shrugging again, Freya shook her head as she headed for the training area, prepared for another ass-whooping. "Um, I'm pretty sure it's garbage."

Smirking, Chase turned to follow his apprentice, calling over his shoulder, "Spicer, see this mess cleaned up."

"_Oh_," Jack groaned, "why do I get all the crappy jobs?"

~Fin

(The story behind this goes back to the first post of this fic. I griped to a friend of mine that was reading the story about the whole Mary Sue C2 issue and she comforted me by saying, "You made Freya to be a real person. Think of what a Mary Sue would be like in real life. Now imagine how Freya would_ really_ be around someone like that. In fact, think of how the Heylin would _really_ deal with someone like that." And this drabble was the result XD)


	9. Brushes with the Past

Chapter Nine

Brushes with the Past

As he led her from the torch-lit corridor into a grand, coliseum-style room she was jarred for a moment as she saw another image of the same room superimposed on her current surroundings. She barely noticed Jack and Wuya, seated at a long table in the center. The ghostly overlay looked as though certain sections were still under construction. Those bright blue pillars, the ones that looked as though they were somehow lit from within . . . .

The overlapping image faded and she hung her head, muttering something under her breath.

Chase looked at her sharply over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing just a little. "What did you say?"

She raised her head, a bit startled that he'd heard her at all, and met his gaze waveringly. "I—I said . . . ."

He turned fully towards her.

Freya fought off a brief wave of anxiety. She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous of his response, but she didn't know _how_ she knew the information he demanded of her, so she was reluctant to voice it again.

"You said _what?"_

"I said that . . . those pillars look l—like they've dimmed. They," she fidgeted nervously with her clasped hands as a hint of barely veiled anger wove into Chase's already hardened stare, "just, I don't know. They're not as bright as they used to be."

She felt the weight of both Jack's and Wuya's eyes on her as the last words left her lips. At the moment, however, she couldn't bring herself to be concerned with the onlookers.

Chase whirled on his heel with an air of finality and strode away toward an open corridor entrance. He paused; turning his head slightly, but his attention didn't land anywhere _near_ her direction.

She angled her head a few times, trying to gauge if he was even bothering to look toward her. Those darkly golden slit-pupil orbs never so much as flickered.

His sudden harshness was such a stark contrast to the _almost_, not quite but almost, light-hearted side he'd shown when they entered the, the . . . . Well, _house_ did seem an odd word to use, and she decided that Jack's use of the term _lair_ was a much better fit after all. Yes, the dramatic change in mood since they'd entered Chase's lair made the overwhelming feeling that she teetered on a ledge wash over her.

"Freya," he snapped.

She nearly stumbled forward, not realizing that she'd been so caught up in imagining that dangerously thin ledge that she'd actually raised up on her toes to balance rather precariously on the rims of her combat boots' overly large soles.

"What in the name of all that is evil are you _doing_?"

She blinked in surprise as she rocked back to crash both feet flatly against the floor and sputtered out, "I . . . . Well, I—"

"Keep pace, will you," he spat, clearly not caring to hear her response as he continued on down the corridor.

She nodded mutely. This must have been a longer and more wearing day than she'd first thought if she took no issue with him ordering her around. She hurried after him. Oddly, as she caught up to him, she was overcome by the most bizarre urge to grab his hand.

She snatched her hand quickly away from any proximity to his. The idiotic notion confused, and surprised, her _so_ much that she couldn't think clearly enough to reprimand herself. She quickly clamped her other hand tightly around it and pressed them both firmly against her abdomen.

They continued silently down the corridor and Freya was content not to aggravate him any more than she already had. Admittedly, though, she was mystified as to why that should be the case; given their interactions since his appearance in her life, annoying Chase might have to be added to her list of hobbies.

Her body seemed to have other notions as they passed an entrance to what she knew—she _knew_—was his library. Suddenly, she turned on her heel and headed into the room, seemingly against her own will. She thought she could hear gears grind as Chase halted and very slowly turned his head to watch her traipsing off on her own.

She stopped before one grand-scale bookshelf and tipped her head back to simply stare at the line where it met the ceiling. Freya wasn't thinking, she had no true control over what she was doing. She felt as though she was strapped helplessly into some imaginary passenger seat of her own body as the words _this isn't supposed to be here—there's something _behind _this_ rattled through her entire skull.

Suddenly the world roared back to life around her as Chase's unforgiving hand clamped down hard on her wrist and he yanked her from the room. She trailed behind him a bit numbly, again muttering something under her breath. Hazel eyes went wide suddenly as Freya realized she'd done it again. Just as Chase seemed about to release his hold, his vice-like grip tightened on her wrist and he turned to face her.

He jerked her roughly a step closer to him as he hissed at her from between clenched teeth, "_What_ was that?"

His instant flare of anger grated on her nerves, but . . . she didn't have the energy to respond in kind just now. Gods, she was _so_ tired all of the sudden. She simply blinked up into his glare dumbstruck, blindly raising her other hand to pry at the fingers holding her arm. She stopped short of that contact, her arm dropping limply back to her side.

The numbness in her legs must have spread and shot straight up into her brain, as she pouted earnestly. That expression was one Freya thought she would _never_ make in front of Chase Young, of all people. _Especially_ when he was two seconds away from shaking her like a rag doll.

She whispered in a barely audible tone, "It's just . . . the library has gotten bigger and that shelf . . . that shelf wasn't there."

His eyes widened a fraction and suddenly he stormed off again, dragging her behind him. She had no idea what had gotten into her, why she was acting_ so_ strange—not to mention stupid, she was acting _so friggin' stupid—_or why she was so sure in her observations of the changes to his home. She couldn't imagine why he was so pissed.

But, _oh_, she thought she could fall asleep _while _walking right now. Despite Chase's rushed pace everything moved so slowly around her and . . . .

Suddenly everything sped up and Freya immediately snapped back into herself, digging her heels into the ground and prying at his fingers with her free hand. "What the hell, Chase?" she demanded loudly. "Let _go!"_

Chase's head whipped around instantly, the force of the action sending his long hair flying as his steps halted. He seethed in a harsh whisper, "Feeling quite like ourselves again, are we?"

Shaking her head, she deliberately focused her gaze on her fingers as she tried to work her wrist from his iron grasp and shrugged adamantly. "Yes, dammit! Didn't I just swear at you and try to _order_ youto let me go? Who the hell else in this place has the gall to talk to _you_ like that?"

Even more mystifying than Chase's sudden bizarre mood swings was her own.

Instantly—and with _very_ little recollection of how she got there—Freya was pressed tightly back against a wall. Her wrists were trapped in his hands as he pinned her arms down next to either side of her head.

"Chase, what the _hell?" _She asked again, her voice very close to trembling. "Didn't we talk about the whole you-not-threatening-me-anymore thing?"

"Oh, _no_," he replied in a tone that was almost sweet, and she was immediately certain that she'd far prefer his open anger to whatever was simmering beneath that feigned lightness. "It was more along the lines that I would not cause you_ true _physical injury out of anger, again. However," he leaned closer, "not _threatening_ you never entered into those terms. As such, I am free to do so as often as I wish as long as you remain _mostly_ unharmed."

Freya hated to admit it to herself, but the feel of his warm breath whispering over her cheek brought on the strangest combination of cold fear and giddy butterflies. She fought to pull her gaze away from his and failed.

Blinking rapidly a few times, her mind rummaged back to that afternoon—gods, it all seemed so much longer than just one day—and recounted the incident within the confines of her own head. _"Shit,"_ she breathed the curse suddenly as she realized he was technically right, and wished she hadn't made him remember their deal. but that still did nothing to explain _why_ he was threatening her.

"Fine," she muttered, one corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly."But why? What the hell did I do _this_ time?"

"You do not recall?" Though he seemed reluctant to let his anger slip away, she could tell from something—some barely noticeable or comprehensible hint—in his tone that he was perplexed, just enough, by her answer to almost be taken aback; _almost_. "Your observations about this place, do you not remember making them?"

She blinked rapidly again as she let her mind wander over to the moments he pointed out. He responded instantly by tightening his grip, his gloved fingers digging a bit harder into her wrists. Duly noting in the back of her mind that he was clearly restraining himself in matters of strength, she pushed away the disturbing thought that the sight of her stupid-seeming rapid blinking in the face of his anger or confusion had him battling the sorest of temptations to simply reach out and pluck her eyeballs from her skull.

_Lovely, Freya,_ she thought sourly as she spurred her mind to send the answers she knew it held down to her vocal cords before he broke her wrists, deal or no. _Half a day with the Heylin, and already you're thinking along more gruesome lines. At this rate, you'll be Wuya Jr. by the end of the week._

"No, no," she sputtered quickly, fighting to keep from blinking anymore, at _all_. "I know what I said, I just . . . I don't know why you're so damned pissed about it!"

"Because the things you stated were true, but you—_you,"_ he repeated the word and it rolled off of his tongue was though the sound tasted bitter, "could not _possibly_ know such things! I am entitled to become angry when I feel I am somehow being made a fool of, am I not?"

"Made a fool . . . ." Freya allowed her voice to trail off without completing the echo. The confusion running rampant between them was enough to temper those stupid, illogical butterflies and quell some of her fear. "But, you just said it yourself, right? That I couldn't _possibly_ know these things? Then how could _I _know that it would get to you like this? I'm gonna guess _no one_ but you knows that!"

"If I am to believe you," he grated out quietly, closing his eyes for a long moment as he set his jaw, before continuing and snapping them open again to lock on hers, "then you will tell me how you know these things and _I _will know if you are truthful."

"I don't know how."

Pursing his lips, his eyes narrowed just a hint as he lifted his chin somewhat haughtily, but not once breaking eye contact with her. "Hmm."

After a long and uncomfortably silent moment passed between them, Freya related the secondary image of the front hall that had passed before her eyes. In a halting, uncertain voice, she shared the words that ran unbidden through her head in the library.

His gaze remained locked on hers as he lowered his face again.

She found herself holding her breath as the tip of his nose came close enough to nearly brush against hers. The motion caused her mind's eye to immediately conjure up images from that delightfully wicked dream she'd had of him at the Xiaolin Temple and she felt her face flood with color instantly.

She silently thanked which ever god she should be grateful to that he didn't seem to notice as he finally nodded and breathed out the words, "I believe you. In the future, you _will_ keep such observations to yourself to prevent any such further misunderstandings."

He released her instantly and strode down the corridor once more, as though the odd—and _entirely_ too close for her comfort—interaction had not taken place. Shaking her head, she puffed out her cheeks and let out a rattling breath before she jogged after him.

He brought her to her room, where she found her suitcase already laid upon the plush-looking deep crimson quilt of a gorgeous four-post bed. Though beautiful—and the kind of bed she'd always wanted, though she'd never tell him that—it looked oddly out of place amongst the other furniture in the room that appeared to all be hand-crafted Asian antiques.

They were the sort of pieces that made people think clichés like, _they don't make things like they used to._ They were likely centuries old, and yet each item looked as though it would still be around, and look exactly as it did now, in another few centuries to come.

"It is late and you will rest. You have a bath through there," he said, pointing to a doorway in the left wall of the room. "Your training starts after breakfast." He turned on his heel to leave, but halted with a shake of his head as she called after him.

"What is it now?" he inquired tonelessly as she ran into the room.

"Just one second, okay?" She threw open her suitcase and rummaged through it, pulling the Wu out from beneath one haphazardly tucked pile of clothing. Returning to the doorway she held it out to him. "Take this."

Quirking an eyebrow, he took the scepter. "You are certain?"

"Yeah," she shrugged, "I mean, what the heck am I gonna do with it anyway?"

"Very good," he responded with a nod. "You will understand that I shall be training you to do combat without crutches such as these."

"Um . . ." she didn't really understand what he meant, quirking an eyebrow herself in response, "Okay, whatever you say. Combat . . . what about that whole telekinetic thing you seemed so interested in?"

"That will be a separate training. Only when that skill becomes more developed can we combine it with your fighting."

Suddenly he disappeared right before her eyes and Freya found herself leaning out of the doorway to look up and down the corridor. The man was nowhere in sight. Shrugging again, she returned to her suitcase and began to pull out her bath supplies.

What the hell was wrong with her? A thousand things just happened that should have had her raging at him at the top of her lungs, but . . . why hadn't she? That she couldn't find an answer seemed worse than the incident itself.

And _blushing_? What the hell? She was just short of berating herself as she made her way to the bathroom door with her things bundled in a towel under one arm. She would have to spar with him—or more likely get her ass kicked by him. Her scant years of formal training in Tae Kwon Do taught her that the combatants could get _very_ close, and she could not allow herself to have any stupid girly thoughts pop up. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was developing a crush on him.

Not that she was . . . she just didn't need _him_ thinking it. Nor did she need the headache Jack would give her if he thought it as well.

After throwing open the door, she stood for a long moment and stared into the little bathroom. "_That's _what he calls a bath?" The small tub looked more like a glorified shower-stall.

After the day she had, she wanted to soak in mind-numbingly hot water from head-to-toe, and that tub just _wasn't _going to cut it. Chewing on her lower lip, she felt an odd tickle at the edges of her mind, akin to what she felt in the library. Rather than pushing it away, she allowed the sensation to creep in and saw in her head a grand bath, accompanied by a peculiar nudging of which direction to head in to find it.


	10. Too Close for Comfort

Chapter 10

Too Close for Comfort

Lifting her foot to break the sudsy surface of the bath water, Freya inspected the shiny, freshly dried black polish on her toe nails as she wiggled the little digits, watching that glint of light dance over the paint. She lowered her leg back into the water, to thump her heel against the bottom of the basin in time with the decidedly angry lyrics of Linkin Park that thrummed through the wide bathroom from her iPod.

She kept to the beat, but her mind wasn't on the music at all. Chewing a bit on her lower lip, she found herself preoccupied with her unexpected—and quite frankly _bothersome_—response to the guided . . . or perhaps semi-guided, tour of Chase's home. It was little comfort to note that she hadn't been the only one bothered.

If anything, that only made matters worse.

So, here she was. She could tell from the luxury of the adjacent room that this was probably Chase's bath, and she'd never hear the end of it if he came in before she finished. Freya had no idea where he'd vanished to, or when he might return. She knew she should hurry, but she just _couldn't._ The heat from the water seeping into her bones felt _so_ good, and she was still troubled by her foreknowledge of this place; she simply couldn't seem to will herself to get out.

Sitting up, she wound her wet hair into a loose knot on the back of her head and slid back down into the water, watching the soapy white bubbles rolling back and forth in front of her face. This probably wasn't the wisest decision she'd ever made—not that she'd made very many wise decisions as of late—but she just didn't want to leave this comfort, yet. In retrospect, she probably should be listening to calmer music to help alleviate her nerves, but she wasn't about to get out to change the playlist.

Eyes drifting closed, she allowed her head to roll back against the rim of the basin as she reminded herself to call her mother in the morning. She could always explain the delay as being worn out from jetlag or something . . . . Wait, was that even how jetlag worked?

The door to the bathroom suddenly flew open so fast and hard that it banged against the wall and nearly swung shut again. Freya sat bolt upright in the tub instantly, hazel eyes opened wide in shock to see a _very_ displeased looking Chase Young enter the room.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded quietly.

"Well, I . . . I," she searched for the right words, but there really weren't any for this sort of situation. "I'm taking a bath."

"This I can see. And what is so wrong with _your_ bath that you chose to trespass?"

"Are you kidding?" Something about the current scenario nagged at the back of her mind, but at the moment she was too happy at gaining back her ability to be angry with him to notice. "Yeah, like you can really wanna call _that _a bathtub. After the day I've had—you probably wouldn't understand this, but being kidnapped kinda has a way of making a girl feel grubby— that little hole in the floor just wasn't gonna do the trick!"

"I care not for your reasoning," he began and as he seemed about to say more his eyes lowered suddenly from hers. His mouth closed as his eyebrows lifted.

The little background thought that nagged at her sprang forward instantly as she lowered her gaze to follow his. The water covered just up to the bottom of her ribcage and only a film of suds sticking to her in two quite specific spots kept her from being _completely_ bared to his view.

_Great, like magical bubble-pasties. _

Her cheeks immediately flooded with color, but she refused to lift her arms to shield herself—the gesture would feel too much like she was cowering in front of him, and she would _not_ give him the satisfaction. "Ya mind, my eyes are up _here."_

"Hmph," he muttered, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "It is not as though it is something I have not seen before."

"Yeah?" Suddenly she was yelling, though she wasn't entirely certain as to why, "Well, that's something I can hardly tell from the way _you _act!"

His own voice raised in response, "And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Are you _kidding?_ With that attitude of yours, it is clear _somebody _needs to get some! So why don't you go take out your frustrations on Wuya or something? From the way she talks about how you look under that armor, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind."

Suddenly he was right in front of her, towering over her with a notably imperious demeanor. "That viper hardly suits my tastes, and you are _never _to concern yourself with something like that in reference to me again!"

Something about his regal stance grated on her nerves so badly that she couldn't stay sitting, spurred on by thoughts like, _it's nothing he hasn't seen before, right?_ Freya stood up from the water, shaking a finger at him as her hair unwound to hang in long, damp clumps down her back. "Yeah, well you really need to do _something_ to loosen that stick in your ass. Don't think it'll ever come out completely, but hey, a girl can dream, right?"

"You are _seriously_ overstepping your bounds by continuing to push this point, and you are testing my patience!" He scooped up her iPod and crushed it in his hand, letting the pieces fall to the floor.

Her eyes narrowed maliciously. "You _bastard_! Do you have any idea how much money I put into that thing?"

"Still so wrapped up in your human concerns, I see."

"Damn straight!" She didn't even want to chance peeking down at herself. Freya knew if she realized that she was just a few rightly-placed bubbles away from being naked she'd duck back into the water again. "What, you think one fun-filled day with you guys is enough to get me thinking differently? Fat chance!"

"What is all this screaming about?" Wuya's voice cut in from the doorway in a musical tone.

"He's being an ass!" Freya yelled, throwing her arms out and oddly unbothered by Wuya seeing her like this, but then that was probably because they had the same parts, just . . . proportioned differently.

"And this surprises you?" she quipped, letting her acid-green eyes rove over the sopping wet girl in a way that almost made Freya question her line of thinking from just a second earlier.

Chase folded his arms across his chest, but his gaze never broke from Freya's. "_She _has no sense of boundaries and could certainly stand to have some manners beaten into her."

"And again I say, this surprises you?"

"Oh, _you,"_ Freya hissed through clenched teeth, mirroring his stance as she went right back to railing at him, "you _really_ wanna go on about the things some people in this room could stand to have? Maybe we should just tell her my thoughts on the fact that you are in _serious_ need of a good f—"

"What the _hell_ is with all this shouting," a sleepy voice called from the doorway. "C'mon guys, I'm trying to s . . . _Freya?"_ Jack's tired mumbling ended in a squeak as he finally came close enough to the doorway to peer in.

Chase waved his hand and the door slammed shut, forcing the intruders from the room. "You," he said gruffly, snatching up Freya's towel and tossing it at her, "will leave this room _immediately. _Should I ever catch you doing something like this again, I will forget our deal, and there will not be enough pieces left of you to go running off to the Xiaolin."

He exited the room, carelessly crunching the shattered bits of her iPod beneath his feet. Balling the towel up, Freya raised it to her face and screamed into the soft fabric. This was _so_ not what she'd needed just now.

Freya landed hard on her back, _again_, coughing weakly as the air was knocked from her lungs. This time, she made no move to scramble to her feet, simply laying on the floor and reaching a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow.

* * *

Three weeks had passed since all that late night _hilarity_ in Chase's bathroom. Though things seemed back to normal with Wuya and Jack, Chase barely said two words to her. Well, unless one could count reprimands for dropping her guard, having sloppy stances, or getting quietly laughed at for how slow and rusty her maneuvers were, of course.

From right after breakfast until Chase's cats—she was _still_ adjusting to the beasts and their many human-like talents—served lunch, and then from lunch until dinner, he kicked her ass up and down the training hall. Freya was sore in ways she never imagined, and ached in places she didn't even know she had.

"Enough lounging," Chase said, making no effort to hide the amusement in his tone. "On your feet."

Still catching her breath, she muttered, "I . . . don't think I can."

Wuya stepped lightly over to her and looked down at the ragged girl. "She's right, Chase. If she doesn't rest now she's going to be laid up for quite a while."

Chase frowned, looking no worse for wear. "Do not presume to tell _me_ what my apprentice needs. Clearly, she requires a great deal more training than that which a few hours in any day can offer."

"Yes, but she's only human. Humans can't just improve all at once like that, you expect too much. A few centuries you said, remember? Let her go to bed early tonight so she can sleep off this latest beating, hmm?"

"So," Freya mused quietly as she looked at Chase, still making no move to get up, "I take it then that I'm not the only one who thinks you're enjoying these training sessions a little _too_ much?"

When Chase seemed reluctant to answer, Wuya piped up, "Perhaps this is his attempt to beat manners into you. Jack!"

"_What?"_ The young man demanded as he came hurrying into the room after a moment of strained silence. Seeing the battered girl on the floor, he gasped and turned wide eyes on Chase. "You finally just forgot about sparring and just beat the crap out of her, huh?"

He shrugged carelessly. "It is not my fault if she—"

"Is slow to counter and never mindful of her guards," Freya finished for him, having heard it a dozen times in the last hour, alone.

"Precisely," Chase said, his eyebrows lifting fractionally as he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Help her back to her room, I am allowing her to retire early this evening."

Grumbling under his breath as he shook his head, Jack knelt beside Freya and slid an arm under her shoulders. Hoisting her up—and deciding from the weight of her leaning on him that he was going to need to keep a closer eye on her at mealtimes, since she felt thinner in just the passing of a few weeks—he walked her silently from the room.

They continued in silence down the corridor until they reached her room and he helped her to sit on the bed. Immediately Freya threw herself down on her stomach and buried her face in a pillow, groaning loudly.

"Okay, well," Jack began walking to the door, "I'll let you get your rest."

"Jack, wait." She sighed miserably, turning her head to look at him. "I need you to do something for me."

* * *

Standing in his library, Chase scanned the spines of ancient volumes when his overly-sensitive demonic hearing picked up a sound. A gasp, was it? Something about the noise set his teeth on edge instantly and he closed his eyes, focusing on it.

_"Ha, no, not there, Jack, that tickles,"_ Freya said and Chase instantly felt his teeth grind.

_"Well if you'd hold still I could get to that spot,"_ Jack replied in a serious tone Chase was not certain he'd ever heard before.

_"Sorry, sorry, it's . . . oh . . . oh, yeah, right there!"_

_"Damn, you're tight."_

Chase eyes snapped open at those words, thin red veins threading through his pupils.

_"You really oughta relax."_

_"I'm trying and, mm, this is, ah . . . _definitely_ helping."_

Suddenly—and with very little understanding of why it bothered him, or why he was going—Chase stormed out of his library and started toward her room.

"_Oh, _gods_, Jack . . . tell me again why you- _oooh_- don't have a- oh gods, right there, right _there_—why . . . you don't have a girlfriend."_

Chase seethed. He couldn't say why, but he was quite suddenly having a rather good time imagining himself tearing Jack limb from limb.

_"Because no other girl- hey, I said hold still- no other girls would let me touch them; especially not like this."_

_"Well- mm, ahh- they . . . certainly don't know what they're missing."_

Chase flung open Freya's bedroom door so unexpectedly that neither of the individuals on the bed had the chance to move. Freya and Jack both looked at the door wide eyed, Freya lay on her stomach, nude from the waist up and her hair swept forward of her shoulder. Jack was sitting up, fully clothed, his fingers pressed into the small of her back.

Realizing that he _greatly_ misunderstood the situation did little to quell his anger, but Chase covered it easily. "You two are making quite a ruckus. What is going on?"

"I'm a little knotted up from you beating the snot out of me, so I asked Jack to give me a back rub."

Jack—in a rare sharp moment—sensed that there was something more to Chase's motives, and tried immediately to placate the man, holding both hands up. "Yeah, that was all, honest!"

"Jack," Freya said loudly, turning her head a little toward him. "You don't need to—"

"Leave now, Spicer," Chase interjected, striding casually into the room. "I shall tend to my apprentice."

Without so much as a wave, Jack bolted from the room.

"Great," she grumbled, laying her head on her arms once more. "I really needed his help."

"What you need," Chase said quietly, sitting on the edge of her bed, "is to relax _all_ of your muscles at the same time for them to heal quickly."

Freya's eyes widened, but she made no move to look at him. "And how are you going to do that?"

"I have my ways."


	11. Pain Unforgotten

Chapter Eleven

Pain Unforgotten

A handful of nights had passed since Chase stormed in on Jack and Freya. He still could not fathom his reaction to what had ultimately been proved a completely innocent situation. Worse yet seemed that he couldn't shake her voice from his head, moaning ever so softly; the way she threw her head back, begging in a breathless whisper for him to stop. But then, it had been what she had needed, had it not?

One would think the girl had never received a foot rub before.

He let out an aggravated breath, turning on his side beneath his quilt. Not that what he'd done was an _actual_ foot rub—Chase Young would never lower himself to do that for _anyone_—merely the pad of his gloved thumb working that nerve just beneath the ball of her foot. He had known perfectly well how her body would respond to such a simple ministration, but then there was only one way he could think of to make her every muscle relax and it was only in the aftermath of something that cause every muscle to tense at the same moment.

_Oh, OH gods, Chase, pl__—__please stop . . . ._

His lips curved into a sneer as he growled at himself, her trembling, pleading voice skittering through his head once more. And yes, he _had_ stopped the moment her body had gone taut, before she could . . . gain satisfaction.

She had clearly been more worn out than he realized, falling into slumber the instant her body had relaxed. Now things were even more oddly strained between them than before.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he commanded his body to sleep only to be jarred, bolting straight up in bed as a pained shriek cut through the darkness.

_Freya?_

Instantly he was on his feet, moving out of his room and down the corridor, determined that to give her a stern reprimand for disturbing his slumber. He could hear distantly the sounds of Wuya and Jack heading for the same destination.

With a wave of his hand, he sent her bedroom door flying open and strode with a quick, controlled gait to the bed. Freya had thrown off her covers and was struggling blindly in her sleep, as though she fought with someone—or some_thing_—and shrieking hysterically in . . . . _Latin?_

Chase frowned deeply as he only watched her for a long moment. He was relatively certain that the girl didn't know Latin from gibberish, so how then—

"Chase," Jack shouted in a whisper, trying to catch his breath as he stumbled into the room just ahead of Wuya. "What are you doing to her?"

Freya forced a loud, choking cough before another volley of screams tore from her throat. Chase spared the boy only the briefest glance, his gaze returning to the girl as he arched an eyebrow. "As you can see, I am doing nothing. She is . . . having a nightmare."

Jack's white face paled further at the sound of her bloodcurdling screeches. "About _what?_ What the hell is she saying?"

Wuya sidled up between the males, looking down upon the spectacle as she said calmly, "A fire, Jack. She's trapped in a fire and can't find a way out."

A nearly unintelligible tangle of words left her lips, and Freya broke instantly into frightened sobbing and more wracking coughs.

Suddenly Jack tugged on Wuya's sleeve like a scared toddler. "What was that, what'd she say?"

Wuya frowned, quietly brushing Jack's fingers away. "She's begging for help."

"Are you really just gonna stand there," the young man demanded. "Do something, Chase!"

"What do you suggest?"

Jack thought he was losing his mind. Here Freya was, probably imagining burning to death—he didn't even want to _think_ what that might be like—and Chase and Wuya seemed perfectly willing to stand around watching. "Wake her up or something!"

Chase let out a sigh, shrugging casually. "I was waiting for something that might tell us more, but so be it."

In one smooth, quick motion, Chase snatched both of Freya's wrists in one hand, forcing another horrible shriek from her as she fought against him. Frowning, he sat down on the bed and pulled her arms over her head his body nearly pinning hers to the mattress.

She screamed out again, trying vainly to push him away.

Chase asked something quietly, Wuya quickly provided the whispered translation to Jack of _who are you?_

Freya whimpered a reply, coughing again.

Chase turned his head slowly, meeting Wuya's shocked gaze. "Soli . . . ."

"Okay, wait, who's Soli?" Jack asked, falling easily, as well, into the there-is-no-shrieking-girl-in-the-room conversation.

Turning his attention back to Freya, Chase replied, "According to my research, Soli was one of the Heylin Witches who had met an untimely end because she was not taught to control her powers."

Going wide-eyed, Jack meeped out, "So is that Freya's like, past life or some shit?"

Chase could only frown, "It would seem so; a minor misunderstanding of the facts on my part."

Brow furrowing, Wuya ventured, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"If you bother to think on it a moment, you will. Take Jack out of here and explain it to him when the answer finally breaks through that thick skull of yours." He jerked Freya's arms tighter against her struggles and she screamed again. "She is the one who needs to understand what is happening, now leave."

Giving an exasperated sigh, Wuya ushered Jack out of the room. He released his hold on Freya's wrists only after he heard their footsteps reach the end of the hall did. He grabbed her by the shoulders instead, shaking her roughly.

"Freya," he ordered sternly, weaving a subtle hint of his power into the words. "Awaken, _now_!"

She clutched feebly at his hands, trying to push them away before her eyes finally snapped open. Her breath still came out in shuddering sobs, her gaze darting frantically about the room before she was able to on Chase.

In a move neither of them would be terribly happy about afterward, Freya threw her arms around Chase's neck, clinging to him.

He froze, his narrowed eyes on the side of the trembling girl's face so close to his. "You will remove yourself from—"

"I know," she muttered in a shivering whisper, her own eyes squeezed tightly shut, "I know. You're about to say something that means to get the hell off you, just . . . . Just gimme a minute, please."

Freya couldn't make sense of what just happened. It was just a dream, it had to be, but it was _so_ real! She was in some strange, primitive-seeming cell and her clothes . . . it might have been a potato sack with neck and arm holes cut into it, for all it looked like.

Smoke poured in from everywhere and the flames had begun to chew up the thick wooden walls. A spark hit the edge of her _whatever_ it was she was wearing and the thing went like a lit match, searing her skin. If Chase hadn't woke her up just then . . . .

She heaved in a grateful sigh of clean air. The action drew her shoulders in, forcing her a little more tightly against him, and she froze instantly.

Why . . . oh sweet _gods_ why—with her shoulders bare due to her tank-top pajama shirt—did she feel her skin brush against _his?_ Freya snatched her arms back against her body, pulling away from him and all but jumping across the bed.

Against her own better judgment—and willpower, apparently—she only stared at him for a long moment. Chase . . . Young . . . was . . . _shirtless! _And _dammit_ to every level of hell if he didn't look just as good as Wuya said he did.

_Oh,__ no, Freya__, no! This__ is the guy who beats the crap out of you__,__ and bullies you every day__,__ and has a hell of a good time doing it, too!_

"Okay, okay," she finally uttered in a near-panicked whisper. "What the hell happened?"

Frowning again, he braced a hand on his knee as he arched a brow at her. "Conventional wisdom would say you had a nightmare."

This time she couldn't stop herself from blinking rapidly at him for a long moment. Did he _really_ think she was that stupid? Oh, wait, he probably did. "Yeah, that part I'm caught up on. I was more referring to _you_ being in my bedroom in the middle of the night half-naked!"

Instantly Chase's expression went from mildly condescending to highly irritated. "You were shrieking loud enough to wake an entire legion of the dead. I was forced to come in here and see what nonsense was causing you to disturbmy slumber. This is how I sleep; I am entitled to be comfortable during such a time, am I not?"

Letting a little, rattling breath slip out through pursed lips, Freya snatched up her covers and pulled them defensively between herself and Chase. "That was _so_ not what I meant. And—seriously—if you think about it for a second, were our roles reversed, wouldn't you be asking the same damned question?"

His eyebrows lifted fractionally. "Hardly, because you clearly do not sleep half naked."

For a long, silent moment, she only gaped at him. Her face seemed as though it was to decide what expression to make, before she simply burst out laughing. Chase Young had just cracked a joke. _W__ow, hope he didn't hurt himself._

After she sobered, he sat up perfectly straight in his usual, imperious demeanor and folded his arms across his chest. "Now that you are feeling better, shall we discuss what happened?"

Biting her lip, Freya pulled the blanket over her legs and brought her knees up to her chest, clasping her hands around her ankles. "I'm not sure. I mean, I know I had a nightmare, but . . . . Okay, I usually have dreams that are just these weird bits and pieces of nonsense. Yeah, I mean, I _know_ human dreams usually a_re_ nonsense, but people at least know what's going on in them enough to say, 'yeah, I was canoeing down a river of chocolate pudding with this badger and he was asking me about the Knicks game'. I also haven't had a nightmare since I was about six years old."

One of Chase's eyebrows inched upward again. Was she serious? "Do humans really dream such ridiculous things?"

"Weren't you human, too, like forever ago?"

After a moment of thought, he smirked as though he honestly forgot. "Oh, yes," instantly his smirk melted into a serious frown, "but that was not a nightmare."

_What the hell does that mean?_ Tipping her head to one side as she stared steadily at him, she asked in a strangely appropriate-seeming whisper, "Then what was it?"

"The memory of a previous incarnation."

She felt her eyebrows shoot up her forehead to disappear into her hairline. "You mean . . . a past life?"

Chase nodded. "I seem to have made a miscalculation about the past Heylin Witches."

Biting her lip again, Freya tried not to let herself wonder how bad that might be. "And that is?"

His expression was almost solemn as he replied, "I no longer believe there were three or four souls born over these centuries to become Heylin Witches, but one soul incarnating over and over."

Freya suddenly felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. The memory of the fire leaped fresh to the front of her mind again as her eyes welled up, just a hint. "So . . . you—you're serious? That fire was real, and if what you told me about their deaths was true then . . . _I_ was the cause of that fire?"

Chase only nodded again. "That girl, Soli, was imprisoned by her people because they believed her possessed by some sort of demon. She was awaiting an exorcism when the fire broke out. She destroyed half of her village that night, all because she was insane with fear over what they would do to her." With an appraising look on his face, he finished, "rather an impressive feat, despite it being her last."

Going wide-eyed, Freya brought her hands to the sides of her head, pulling on her hair. "You are just _so_ sick, Chase. Ya know, every now and again you really and _truly_ remind me of why I dislike you so much. And you want me to become like you—and not _just_ you, but some bizarre Chase-Wuya amalgam. I mean that is _just_ . . . ." Her words trailed off as she sat up a bit straighter, her hands dropped to the bed and her gazeflicked about the room.

Watching the girl's uncharacteristic behavior with an expression akin to watching an animal in a cage, Chase's brow furrowed. "Freya . . . ?"

Something was calling to her. In the very pit of her stomach she could feel that odd, tickling pull again. Pushing her covers away, Freya stood up from the bed and took a step, trying to put the sensation into words, and at the moment oddly uncaring that her pajama shorts were perhaps a little _too_ short after her huggy moment with Chase a few minutes ago.

"It's like that first day when I met all of you in the park. Chase, it's a—"

"C'mon kiddies, enough pillow-talk," Wuya announced from the doorway suddenly, a triumphant glint in her acid green eyes. "We have a Wu to claim."

Chase was on his feet instantly, breezing past the Witches, "Then we are off."

Freya blanched. "What, I can't even get dressed?"

He paused in the doorway just long enough to turn his head, meeting her eyes. "Do you think the Xiaolin will wait?"

"It's true," Jack piped up from somewhere in the hall, "sometimes they even sleep in their monks robes . . . it's _weird._"

Groaning, Freya shoved her feet into the worn black tennis shoes she used as slippers and trudged after them. Something was bothering her about the hurried departure, but it wasn't until they were at the lair's entrance that it hit her.

"Okay, Chase. I am _so _not flying with you if you're half-naked and I'm in my pajamas!"

"Hmph," with a snap of his fingers, Chase was suddenly in his armor. "Problem solved."

Rolling her eyes as that enormous, grating door crashed open she muttered— hating that it was almost natural to fall into place at Chase's side and fit her fingers into the edging of his breastplate as he locked an arm around her waist—"That's just _perfect_. You get to be in full battle regalia and I don't even have time to put on a bra?"

Chase didn't seem to notice the comment, but Wuya and Jack exchanged a look. "Freya's right Chase, we really shouldn't let her run around with those things unholstered."

"Shut UP Jack," Chase and Freya snapped in unison as Chase jetted them upward at break-neck speed.


	12. Not You Again!

Chapter Twelve

Not _You_, Again!

"There they are, Chase," Freya shouted over the wind billowing in their ears.

Not far from their position, Rai carefully inched his way up a dangerously narrow-looking mountain cliff. A glinting, golden object rested on the peak. "Oh, I _hate_ that guy," she said with a scowl.

"In that you are not alone. Not to worry, we are here in time to stop him."

"Can you just fly by and snatch it?"

He shook his head. "At our current speed there is the risk of missing, which will only knock it into the valley below. However, if we slow down, he may reach it first."

Freya nodded, not liking what she was thinking, but it might be the only way to beat Rai to the Wu—odd how the _beating Rai_ part seemed more important to her than the _getting the Wu_ part. "Drop me."

Chase actually went a bit wide-eyed at that. "I know you detest this form of travel, but—"

"No, no," _stupid, _"when we get over the top of that mountain, drop me."

Oh, was that all? His expression calmed immediately. "You are certain?"

She could only nod grimly, not that she'd ever been the bravest soul, but she had to start getting into this whole Wu-Hunting thing they were all so adamant about, sometime. "Yeah, I'll probably earn some bumps and bruises, but what's new?"

"So be it," he replied, feeling only a scant proud that his apprentice was willing to put herself in harm's way to ensure his victory.

Unfortunately for Freya, they were much closer to the mountain than she thought. She didn't have the time to brace herself when Chase finally did release her unannounced. The drop—she didn't want to guess how many feet she fell—was enough to tear a startled yelp from her throat.

She threw her arms up, covering her face before impacting the mountainside on her forearms and the balls of her thinly-soled feet. Her body skittered down a few inches, the rough rock scraping the flesh from her elbows before coming to a complete stop, her fingers grasping blindly for a handhold.

After a moment, she crumbled on her knees and forearms. ". . . Ouch." She was too surprised at not breaking a bone to be grateful about, well, not breaking any bones.

"Freya," Chase shouted sternly as he landed near the other Xiaolin Dragons, "get moving!"

Nodding slowly to herself, she pushed up and began to inch her way toward the summit. Craning her neck, she saw Rai several feet below and gaining. Was there anyone in these groups that couldn't kick her ass blindfolded at about ten different things? Well, _other_ than Jack?

Rai glanced up from his hands clinging into the craggy mountainside for a moment, meeting her eyes. "Ah, Chase Young's new prize pupil. Say, did they ever tell you just _how_ many new apprentices that guy's gone through in the last few years?"

Frowning, Freya determinedly returned her attention to her climbing. "Trust me, pal—anyone down there could tell you I ain't no prize anything. And for the record, yeah, two; Omi and that Jermaine kid. That crazy Katnappe chick was just a red herring to corrupt your little monk."

"Yeah," he shouted up, focusing his concentration on climbing faster, "for bad guys they can be oddly lenient. I mean, why the hell do they still keep Jack around?"

She shrugged, glancing upward, _just a few more feet._ "Mostly for errands—ya know, carrying bags, grooming those freaky huge house cats, and occasional tech support."

Rai . . . actually . . . _laughed._ "Tech support?"

If she didn't find him so _damned_ annoying, she might actually be attracted to him. Freya ignored the quick, fragmentary thought.

She only nodded, hastily pushing some wayward locks of her long hair behind her ear—what a time to be without a hair-tie. "Yep, did you know he managed to get us an internet connection out there?"

"Don't tell Kim that—she might want to visit and see if you've got access to the stuff that's blocked in the temple."

Why was his voice _closer_ now? Freya glanced down and groaned. Rai was right at her feet.

"I can see they've got their work cut out for them with you," he said, a haughty smirk gracing his lips.

"Give me a _break_ surfer-boy, I've never done this kinda crap before, unlike you guys who . . . ." Her voice trailed off as a tremor rumbled beneath them. "Oh my gods, what was that?"

"Feels like an earthquake, maybe it'll pass." His gaze locked on hers as he inched closer, "Calm down and focus or you'll fall!"

"Calm _down?"_ She squeaked, scrambling up still toward the peak. "Are you kidding? I'm from New York, we don't _do _earthquakes!"

Another tremor rumbled and Rai latched a hand around her ankle. "Okay, new plan—we need to get down from here, like _now!"_

"_No!_ I've almost got it. How do I know you're not trying to trick me? Isn't that Clay dude the Dragon of Earth?"

Rai clenched his teeth, releasing her ankle to continue edging his way up as well. "I know what you think of the Xiaolin, but we _wouldn't _do something like that. These tremors could mean a bigger quake is coming!"

"But I'm almost there!" Freya could see the bright, gleaming gold edge of the object.

"Fuck the Wu!"

Frowning, she forced herself to lunge upward a few more inches, clinging to the peak as she snatched the Wu in her hand. "Got it!" She looked at them for a moment, _goggles__? _Weren't the Wu supposed to be ancient? _What the he__—_

The entire mountain shook suddenly and she lost her hold, slipping down the rough rock face. Before she could even scream Rai snaked out a hand, catching her by the wrist.

He tried to pull her up, but she was dead weight, her entire frame nearly going limp out of fear. "You _gotta _help me, here! Look, there's a hold right there—drop the damned Wu and grab it!"

"N—no," she sputtered. She knew she was being stupid, but this _was_ what she'd come for, and she couldn't help feeling that if she let it go the whole mess would be in vain.

Tucking the goggles into the waistband of her shorts, she reached for the tiny lip with trembling fingers. As she grasped it, another small tremor shook them.

"When is this going to stop," she grated out the question through clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes closed as she forced limbs to work just enough to cling to the mountainside.

Rai hadn't released his hold on her wrist, instead shifting himself and inching down the rock until he was behind her. "I don't know, but the sooner we get down from here, the better."

"What the hell are you doing?" She _so_ did _not_ want to be _this _close to _this_ guy.

"Cut the shit—you can barely hold yourself up right now, so we climb down together, okay?"

"Okay, fine," Freya muttered, inching downwards in pace with his movements. "Two flying people, a guy with a heli-bot and a dragon down there. Why aren't any of them shooting up here to help us?"

Rai spared a glance at the ground. A worried frown tugged down the corners of his mouth at the sight of the other Dragons pulling themselves up from the valley below. Chase and his stupid, honor-bound ass was actually _helping_ them, and apparently ordering the rest of the Heylin to do so as well. Why couldn't that bastard just be a typical bad guy and let them fall? _No_, he wanted to defeat them all in combat, and have them swear loyalty to him . . . . _B__astard_.

"They've got their own problems. We can do this, okay? But you really need to calm down and focus." The lip beneath the fingers of his upper hand broke and he slipped, scrapping his hand against the jagged rock. "FUCK!"

"That was my ear," Freya grumbled, leaning into the mountain as another tremor rumbled.

"Sorry," he muttered, finding another hold and resuming their descent.

Despite the discomfort of the situation, and some more minor tremors, they made it to a wide ledge half way down the mountain. With her feet planted firmly on _some_ sort of ground, she felt rather reluctant to move again; at least not yet. The tremors hadn't stopped—in fact, they seemed to be getting worse—and as she peered over the edge, she almost found it amusing to watch the ever-so-skilled martial artists below tap dancing just to keep their footing.

Not almost, it _was_ amusing considering how very much catching up to them she had to do in the _ass-whooping_ department.

Frowning, she sat down and bent her arms, examining the scrapes on her elbows. Now that she could see the marred skin, the stinging pain of torn flesh kicked in. _I look like I got smacked with a cheese grater; if this scars I'm gonna be _so _pissed._ A hissing sound caught her attention as she rocked side-to-side with the motion of another tremor.

Turning toward the sound, Freya saw Rai on his knees, leaning on his injured hand as he peered around the side of the mountain. "I knew I spotted something!"

Sighing, she stood and painfully dusted herself off before venturing over to him. "What kinda something?"

Glancing briefly at her, he pointed toward a large hole a bit below, and to one side of them. "That—it's probably a tunnel that leads into a cave. Might be safer to try getting back to the ground that way."

Staring at the back of his head for a long moment—as though he just spoke an alien language—Freya scoffed, "Are you, like, _completely_ deluded? If a quake hits while we're in there we could get nailed by falling stalactites . . . stalagmites? Oh whatever, I never could keep those straight."

Dusting off his hands, he stood up. "Yeah, but we're more likely to survive dodging falling _rocks _then being knocked off the mountain and falling into a _crevice in the earth_." For emphasis, he gestured toward the valley below.

Forcibly perking herself up, she nodded. "Good point, so how do we get in there?"

"I swing you across and once you're in, I'll jump after you."

His calm tone did _nothing_ to stifle her sudden panic. "You are insane! Hey wait a minute, aren't you the Dragon of the _Wind_?"

Rai nodded, furrowing his brow as he leaned one hand against the mountain, swaying easily with the next tremor and hiding his amusement at the cat-stuck-in-a-tree look on Freya's face. "Yeah, so?"

"So?" Hazel eyes went just a hint wide. "Aren't people with power of the wind supposed to like, be able to fly?"

His entire face falling, Rai responded in a dull tone, "You watch too many cartoons. C'mon now, we can do this."

She couldn't help frowning as her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine, how?"

"Gimme your hand, you're going to climb down the ledge and let go. Then I'm going to swing you toward the opening. You grab _that_ ledge and when you have a good hold, let go of my hand and pull yourself in."

After craning her neck to look at said opening, she rolled her eyes up toward the sky as she heaved an aggravated sigh. "Alright, okay, let's just get this over with."

Rai knelt beside the edge of the cliff, clasping her hand tightly as she lowered herself to the ground and slowly inched her body backward until she clung to the side of the mountain, once more. Closing her eyes, she blew out a loud breath before pushing away from the wall just a little to dangle in the air.

Forcing a gulp down her throat, she looked up the length of her outstretched arm to meet Rai's gaze. "I _really_ hope you're as strong as you think you are."

"Shut up and worry about grabbing that ledge. Here we go."


	13. An Unspoken Truce

Chapter Thirteen

An Unspoken Truce

Rai swung her through the air for the third time and the trembling fingers of her free hand finally latched onto the bottom ledge of their supposed refuge. Freya let out a strange noise that was a cross between a terrified squeal, and a triumphant shout.

"Got it," she yelled in a shaky voice, before her body started to argue with her brain over her predicament and she stopped moving all together.

Making a sound like a growl, Rai shouted back in a carefully controlled tone, "Freya, you _need _to let go of my hand if we're gonna get any further than this."

Growling a little herself, she looked up at him. Determinedly reminding herself that she was willingly touching Rai—of _all _people—she forced her hand to release his. She was almost caught in another moment of fear-driven paralysis, but she realized maybe a healthy dose of fear was the motivator she needed.

Drowning out Rai's voice as he shouted the plan at her again, she pointedly glanced into valley below. Though she'd never been afraid of heights, dangling from one arm this far from the ground was enough to skew her current list of phobias. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she finally lifted her other arm to grip that hand into the sharp rim as well, though she wasn't doing as good of a job as she wished she was at ignoring the painful biting of jagged ledge into her palms as she struggled to pull herself up.

Leaning her body into the hole—undoubtedly earning herself a scrape across her abdomen as the fabric of her shirt snagged against the rock—she braced her feet against the mountainside and scrambled up, propelling herself unsteadily inside. Sliding her hands up the walls blindly, she stood and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"What do you see?" Rai's voice was only a bit muffled by the separation.

Feeling around to be certain her eyes weren't playing tricks on her, she shouted back, "It's definitely a tunnel, and it looks like it leads downward—but it's small. You're gonna have to duck." Or, at least she was pretty certain he would. He towered over her, but she was no great judge of height, so maybe he would have room.

"Okay, I'm coming in, you start down the tunnel."

Nodding to herself, Freya did as instructed. Sure, she hated Rai down to her shiny black toenails, but he'd gotten her this far without killing her, so she was feeling inclined to wait until after this horrific episode was over to be bitchy. She made her way several meters down before another tremor shook them and a pained groan from the entrance met her ears.

Glancing over her shoulder, there was just enough light pouring in from the opening for her to clearly see Rai doubled over the ledge as she'd been a few moments before. She didn't want to imagine what the scrape on his midsection would look like after enduring a tremor in that position.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to go back and help him, but she pushed it aside instantly. _Fuck it, if _I _made it, _he _can make it._ She simply called over her shoulder as she continued forward. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm peachy," he bellowed gruffly. She heard an unmistakable shuffle-scrape sound as he pulled rest of his body inside the tunnel. "You see anything yet?"

"Hardly," she said with a frown. "I can barely make anything out, but the tunnel seems to go pretty far."

"No, use the Wu, it's for seeing in total darkness."

Freya slipped the goggles from her waistband and pulled them on as he continued, "To activate them, you have to call their name, Eyes of the Bat."

"Eyes of the Bat," she echoed doubtfully. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, bat's can't see for sh . . . ." Her voice trailed off as the tunnel came into view in light range similar to infrared. "Holy shit!"

"They give off and pick up sonar, then translate the sound waves into pictures for the wearer. And you were right, this tunnel is fuckin' tiny."

Casting a brief look over her shoulder at him, she could see now that he was having a difficult time maneuvering in the cramped space. He inched his way toward her, hunched over as he was.

Putting in her very best effort to act unfazed as another tremor rumbled all around them, she continued forward. "Suits me just fine."

She had the very distinct impression that he was biting back some snippy retort. "Can you see an end to the tunnel yet?"

Frowning deeper, she shook her head as she took a moment to identify the scent tickling her nose. "Nope, but you smell that?"

He halted for a moment and she heard him sniffing the air. "Yeah, dampness. Maybe an underground stream or something."

Her hand slid against something slick on the wall and she gave a disgruntled sigh. "Shit. We're gonna have to watch our footing from here on out, I think there's some moss in this part of the tun—"

A frighteningly large tremor shook them and she stumbled forward. Her sneakers slid, forcing her legs out from under her. Freya landed hard on her back, wrenching a startled cry from her throat as she began slipping down the tunnel.

"Dammit! Freya?" Rai shouted, lowering himself in an attempt to make more space so he could rush after her.

"NO! Rai, don't—" Her words were cut off harshly as her body slammed into another lip.

Sparing a moment to peek over the tiny, upraised ledge, she saw a short drop and something rippling gently. Maybe that was the stream Rai guessed at? But Rai's hurried steps drew closer. She knew that her voice stopping short made him think something had happened to her.

"Rai, I'm okay! Stop, there's moss all over the—" Her words were drowned out by a shout from him, followed by a sudden sliding sound.

There wasn't room for her to get out of the way as his form rushed towards her over the slippery rock. He barreled into her, causing the lip to crack and give way under their combined weight and instantly they were falling. This time, Freya didn't have chance to scream before she hit the wide, shallow flow of water beneath. Rai landed on top of her, the impact forcing a distinct _oomph _out of him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved or spoke, simply mulling over the dizzying combination of pains, fear and ruffled feathers that the last ten minutes of their lives had brought them. The water just barely covered her, but the icy liquid stung her open wounds. She could only be grateful that she'd not cracked the back of her skull when she'd impacted.

He gave a pained groan as he attempted to raise his body off of hers, supporting his weight on his elbows. The movement didn't create enough space between them. and she focused on her pain. This was a terrible time for her body to go all girly on her, she thought, attempting to ignore that when she breathed in it caused her breasts to brush against his chest ever so lightly—a friction that the chill in the water was _not_ helping in the least.

"And . . . they always make that shit look _so_ fun in . . . in the movies," she squeaked out breathlessly.

Shaking off the cobwebs, Rai muttered, "You okay?"

She nodded slow. "I'll live . . .you?"

He nodded as well, his breathing still shuddering a little as he raised his head to look around their new environment. "Yeah—yeah." He let out a wobbly laugh. "Believe it or not, I've had worse days."

_Still too close, still _too _close!_

She knew he was only getting a gauge on their surroundings before standing up—there was a little light in the cavern, she could only guess that the darkness and moisture had paved the way for luminescent moss in here. For a brief moment, his closeness and how warm his skin was in contrast to the cold water made it difficult for her to remember of how very much she loathed him.

She could always simply hold her breath until he moved away, but she'd never been able to do that for more than a few seconds. Not really thinking it through, she drew in a heavy sigh . . . . and then made an uncomfortable squealing noise in the back of her throat.

Rai looked down at her suddenly. "I'm sorry, am I hurting you?"

Forcibly reminding herself that he loathed her, too, she decided that perhaps honesty was the best course of action. "No," she replied shakily, before pointedly casting her eyes down the length of their bodies, "but I'd _really_ appreciate it if you could get off me."

Furrowing his brow he followed her gaze, letting out a choked gasp of surprise when he caught on. "Oh . . . damn—boobs and cold water! I didn't realize—"

"Rai, get _off_ me_,_" she screeched so hurriedly the sentence blended into a single word. She braced both palms against his chest and shoved with as much of her waning strength as she could muster.

He graciously allowed her to push his weight so that he fell into the water beside her, but he couldn't stop it from yanking another _oomph_out of him. The two were quiet again for a long moment as they listened to the sound of the stream gurgling and lapping around them. Somewhere further off in the cave was the distant echo of liquid dripping.

Frowning as her breathing finally slowed, she pulled the goggles down to lay around her neck. "Shouldn't there be bats in here or something?"

There was a faint swishing noise as Rai turned his head slowly, narrowing his eyes at the side of her face. " . . . What?"

Freya shrugged, creating more swishes in the icy water. "I was just thinking . . . guess the Wu's bringing it to mind, but it's like in _Scooby Doo_, ya know? Like every time they found themselves in a cave, Scooby or Shaggy would scream like a girl and bats would just come pouring out of everywhere. I just shrieked pretty loud at you and nothing, so I'm wondering why there aren't any bats."

He rolled his head to look up at the cavern ceiling again, sighing thoughtfully. As silly as that train of thought started out, it did make sense. "It's night time, they should be out like . . . hunting or whatever it is they do, right?"

"Right," she nodded slowly, feeling her hair moving in the water to brush lightly against her cheeks and the sides of her throat. "Or there's something in here that even bats won't go near."

Rolling his eyes before squeezing them tightly shut for a long moment, he bit painfully hard into his lower lip, replying after a second's silence, "You are really just _so_ not the person to be trapped in a dire circumstance with, ya know that?"

"I'm a realist, sue me."

Groaning, Rai slowly, painfully pulled himself up to stand. He seemed to give the matter a great deal of thought before offering her his hand. Freya blinked at the gesture a few times before—moving with just as much pain as he had—stiffly lifting an arm to place her hand in his. He tugged on her, scowling darkly when she didn't budge.

"Uh-uh," she muttered when he tugged again.

"C'mon, Freya, we need to find a way out, or a way to _not_ die between now and whenever we're found."

"I know," she grumbled tiredly; short, restless sleep, and more wounds than even Chase's training sessions had accustomed her to were taking their toll. "I'm sorry, I'm just afraid I'm gonna need more help than that."

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Look, you guys may have loads of experience with getting all battered, but this is an entirely new level of pain for me."

"Fine," he huffed, leaning down to slip his free hand under her other arm and hoisting her to her feet.

"There," she said, ignoring that she swayed a little, but just enough aware of it to hate that her own weakness forced her to lean into him as tightened his grip on her to keep her from falling back down. "That," she muttered with some effort, "wasn't so hard now, was it?"

The subtle illumination in the cavern gave her just enough light to see him frowning almost menacingly at her. "Easy for you to say, pint-sized accident-waiting-to-happen," he replied through gritted teeth.

He pulled her arm around his neck with one hand, sliding the other around her waist. Rai almost effortlessly dragged her with him as he walked toward a small, upraised bit of rock that banked the edge of the stream.

She was quiet as he helped her over the tiny ledge and resumed half-pulling her in some random direction as a few aftershocks of the quake rumbled around them. It would be just her luck that the big one they'd been dreading seemed to be what had landed them in this predicament, after all.

Her eyes roved over their surroundings as they walked wondering, for a moment, why it seemed familiar. In an unspoken, unanimous decision, Freya and Rai continued on toward the brighter areas in the cave—which didn't say much, given the light source.

Pushing away the nagging impression that they were almost seamlessly working together, she said, "You could've just left me there."

He nodded slowly, clearly focusing on keeping them moving toward the one tunnel they could see. "I could've, but then I keep telling you, I'm not one of the bad guys."

"Pfft, bad guy- shmad guy. We obviously can't stand each other, so I'd have totally understood if you had. I mean, there's every chance—were our roles reversed—that I'd have ditched you."

"Yeah," he responded with a short laugh that echoed back to them from the cramped walls, "but you're one of the bad guys."

"Mm, good point."

The tunnel curved, twisting and turning for—what she could only estimate to be—a solid ten minutes, at _least_, before they could see the end. Freya halted, waiting for more irritated groans from Rai, as another cave opened out before them, but he'd stopped short as well, instead breathing out a low whistle of surprise as they saw it.

There, in the brightened depth of the cavern, they saw a temple, covered in more of that same luminescent moss so that it seemed to glow. The stream they'd fallen into flowed out toward and around it, widening enough in some sections to nearly be considered a river, leaving only so much dry land bare to create a path to the small hill the decaying temple rested upon.

Narrowing her eyes in disbelief, she unwound herself from Rai to take blind, unsteady steps along the path toward the structure. "What is this even doing here?"

* * *

(Yes, for those that have read my epic SessKag AU fic, _Stealing Heaven_, I do have a serious hang-up with the idea of subterranean temples ;D)


End file.
